Power of the Moon
by Leonette
Summary: Three hundred years ago, the War of the Exiled waged for seven years. Now, it will wage again in the present. The Moon Items are rediscovered. The Exiled have woken. Things will never be the same again.
1. The Mysterious Box

A/N: (12/10/07) Oi vey, more updates! This time, altering Baron's speech, making it more Shakespearian. More Shakespearian stuff to come!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 1: The Mysterious Box

Before I start this story, I would like to tell you a little about spirits since this tale circles around them.

Spirits are very different from ghosts. Some people think they're not, but they're wrong. Not surprising that so many rumours about them are all over the place. Very little is known about them. They do not choose to stay in the mortal world like common ghosts. They stay whether they like it or not. They are things people never see. Well, when I say never, I don't mean that spirits are invisible to everyone. They are visible only to the right people and none who see them will ever tell their secrets.

A great misfortune to all spirits is the long wait that ensues after death for the right person who will release them. To prevent madness, they are cast into deathly slumber and dream of their past. But it may take years, decades, centuries and even millennia's for them to find their Chosen One. There are many all around us who are waiting patiently for their Chosen One. Who knows? Maybe one of them could be looking for you…

* * *

Harry Potter was by no means any ordinary thirteen year old boy. At thirteen, boys were normally going to regular football clubs or youth groups. They would go out with their friends, call each other amusing nicknames and would start noticing girls.

Not Harry. He was at the moment our story begins wandering alone around a street invisible to non-magical folk. He would not see his friends until September the first when he would be boarding the Hogwarts Express from Platform Nine and Three Quarters to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Even for a wizard, Harry was not ordinary. The scar on his forehead was not your normal everyday scar you might get from a deep cut or an accident. It was lightning-shaped and the relic of when Lord Voldemort had tried to kill him with a deadly curse. Yes, Harry was not ordinary. He knew that fully well.

What he didn't know was that his life was going to get a whole lot more bizarre.

* * *

As I have told you before, Harry was at the moment our story starts wondering around Diagon Alley; a cobbled street lined with shops that you certainly wouldn't find in your everyday town or village. Shops selling wands, parchment, spell books, quills, magical instruments and broomsticks.

Harry was looking around a cramped antique shop. It was a maze of dusty artifacts stacked on top of one another and on shelves. This wasn't something he'd normally do but he was bored and he had never visited before. He wasn't really interested in buying anything when he went in.

He observed a bookcase so full of books that it made Harry scared to take one out in case the rest fell off. He got bored of it soon and turned around. On a moth-eaten chair was something that looked very out of place and the last thing Harry had expected to find in this cramped dingy old shop, with its objects lost under dust.

A small, pristine little silver box with the symbol of a moon engraved upon it. The moon was very thin and looked more like the outline of an oval with a bit rubbed out. Harry tentatively moved closer. He had long since learned to be wary of anything looking out of place. He picked it up and examined it closely; putting it up to his eye and turning it over for a better look,

"Ah," a strange voice behind him made Harry whip round, "you can hold it. But can you open it, boy?" A thin man with a chin partially hidden by stubble and with beady eyes was moving quietly; almost gliding toward Harry, carrying a knobbly cane. Harry was startled by this strange query. The lid of the box had no clasp or lock so it would be easy to open, surely.

Harry pushed the lid upwards and sure enough, it opened easily, the hinges in perfect working order. The shopkeeper's eyes widened,

"No one's who's ever taken to that box has ever been able to open it. Beats me what the problem was. No lock or anything. I've always thought it had some sort of enchantment on it to stop anyone from opening it. I kept it in the open just so I can watch people try to find out what's inside. They tried blasting it, unlocking charms, counter-curses, the lot. I remember one person got so frustrated; he threw it against the wall. But no one's been able to open it. 'Till you."

"How did you get it?"

"Well, y'know the Shrieking Shack just outside the village of Hogsmeade? Near Hogwarts? Well, it was found in the morgue about six or seven years ago. Down in the basement. It was in the hand of a two hundred year old skeleton. But it looked as though it'd just come off the shelf. Like it does now. Apparently, the skeleton had been one of the old Barons of Hogsmeade. They used to live there. Before it was wrecked, obviously. Anyway, the person who gave to me told me all this and that, if the person who wanted to buy the box could open it, I was to let them have completely free of charge. Dunno why. She was a bit of a weirdo..."

Harry peered into the box. It was lined with a rich mahogany satin and full of silver pieces with jagged edges that looked almost like a blank metal jigsaw puzzle. Clamped in place under the pieces was a piece of parchment, dark yellow with age. Hoping to uncover more clues about the box, Harry eagerly pulled it out. The shopkeeper looked over Harry's shoulder with the same intention.

They were both disappointed, though. There was no writing on it. No instructions; no description; no history; just an accurate picture that looked like it had been drawn with quill and ink in a steady hand. The black solid lines traced the outline of a circular, cracked pendant with the same moon symbol as the one engraved on the box. Harry could make neither head nor tail of this. It didn't look remotely magical. In fact, it looked a little too _normal_ to be in a wizard's shop. Perhaps he could ask Hermione next time he saw her about it.

* * *

As promised, the merchant had not charged Harry for the mysterious box and its even more mysterious contents. Harry had gone back to his room in the Leaky Cauldron straight after that. Not even stopping at the broomstick shop to admire the new Firebolt in the window.

The box seemed to want to be paid attention to. Whenever Harry tried to think about something else, it pushed itself to the front of his mind. He sat down at the desk once he was in the quiet of his room. He opened the box and emptied the pieces in front of him. He looked at the parchment again.

This time, more lines appeared on the parchment. It was almost like someone invisible was next to him, drawing in a steady, skilled hand in ink. After a frantic look around the room, Harry stared at the progress it made. When they had finished, Harry now saw that there were new pictures around the unchanged one of the pendant. They were of jagged pieces…_Hold on!_ Harry suddenly realised. The silver pieces were identical to the ones that were scattered on the desk. Arrows had also been drawn in between them; starting at the top left piece, going in an anticlockwise circle and ending with the piece next to the first one.

Harry took up the first and the second piece (at least the one to which the arrow leading off the first was pointing to). On instinct, Harry placed the two together on matching edges. They fitted together perfectly and stuck together. Elated by this, Harry picked up the pieces one by one and fitted them into place. He felt more and more thrilled as the pieces fitted into one another. His body seemed to be inflated with ecstasy when there was only one piece left. It felt like, if he finished it, his greatest wish would come true.

He picked it up and carefully (well, as carefully as he could when he was so eager) eased the piece into place. Harry beamed. He had done it! The pieces had made up the pendant from the picture. Albeit the cracks where the pieces had stuck together were still visible but it looked brilliant nonetheless. Just then...

The cracks began to glow as if there were a light within. Even though the cracks were very thin and small, they emitted a light so bright even the bright summer sunshine coming in through the window seemed as faded and as dim as the dying embers in the fireplace. Harry held up an arm to shield his eyes from the blinding light; all his ecstasy and pride replaced with worry. What had he done? Had that merchant just given it to him to lure him into a trap? Had that story been only a trick he told every customer to…well, god knows what he wanted.

Suddenly, the pendant started to levitate away from his hands and a silver chain appeared connecting to it. This chain began to snake around Harry's neck. Harry fought with it, trying to pull it away. After a few moments of struggling, the chain won and it connected back to the pendant so Harry was now wearing it. Harry's eyes had now got used to the light. _Okay,_ he thought, _that was strange. But, nothing seems to be happening..._He looked up from it and gave a cry of shock as he realised he was no longer in the room. He was falling gently down a dark passage as though he was sinking through non-existent water.

Streaks and specks of light flew up, past him. Harry tried to clasp hold of them but they just slipped through his fingers. He looked down and saw a pinprick of light at his feet. This pinprick grew and grew. He must be sinking towards it. Harry looked down at the cracked pendant again. What was this? A hallucination? Some sort of teleport? Before Harry could properly discern what was going on, his toes were touching the light. He then passed through the light as though it was a ghostly sheet.

When he had fully passed through it, he kept on floating down until he was standing on a firm marble floor. He raised his eyes. It looked like the drawing room in some old-fashioned manor house. An ornate gold fireplace stood in front of him with wood but no lit fire. Two sofas, a coffee table and an high-backed armchair stood around the fireplace. There were no windows, no candles lit, no torches and the crystal chandelier was unlit. Yet, the place was full of light.

A wine rack stood on the side of the room between lavish blood red and snow white hangings. Vases stood on tall pedestals and a whitewashed door stood behind him. Harry was surprised that there was no one coming. He must have been here for about ten minutes, just taking this whole place in. He turned to the one side of the room he hadn't seen yet and...

This side held the biggest surprise for Harry. What looked like thorny vines like rose stems were coming out of the wall. In their grasp, suspended a few feet from the floor, was a immobile person. Harry took a step back. What _was _this place? The person was held in a position with his arms stretched straight out to his sides. He was definitely male but his age was unknown since his head hung limply and his face was invisible due to his long shaggy black hair. What Harry could see what that he was clothed in a long, plain, white robe that came down to his ankles so his bare feet were just visible. His skin bore a golden tan and he was very thin.

Harry took a tentative, nervous step towards him. This man could be asleep, pretending, enchanted, unconscious or even _dead _(Harry thought the latter would be most likely). Or it could be just a statue. No, it was too lifelike. Just as he took a second step, the smell of water lilies came to his attention along with soft piano music, echoing, as if from far away. Words too accompanied them, echoing, male and female combined in a duet,

"_Amazing Grace..._"

Harry whisked around, looking around wildly for the source of the music, "_...How sweet the sound..._"

"Who's that?" Harry demanded, getting more anxious by the minute. Still, the voices continued to sing persistently,

"..._that saved...a wretch...like me...I once was lost..."_

"Harry Potter."

The singing abruptly stopped. He jumped at the sound of his name but ruled out the possibility that the man had spoken since the voice was certainly female. He looked wildly to the side. A woman dressed in gothic-looking clothes of black silk and velvet was standing there, her concealed hands pressed together as though in prayer. She separated her hands and glided over to him as if on wheels. At least, Harry thought she was coming towards him. A white hood covered her eyes and yet Harry felt like she was looking right into his soul, "Do you see him?" she asked, pointing up to him with her concealed hand.

Harry nodded, slowly. _Why wouldn't I?_

"That is Baron Gabriel de Cinclion." Harry vaguely remembered hearing the name in History of Magic and on a Chocolate Frog card, "Come. We will have a closer look at him."

Feeling that a better task would be to back away, Harry felt himself levitate off the floor along with the mysterious woman and fly up to Baron Gabriel de Cinclion's level. The woman took the unconscious man's chin and raised it up so Harry could his face clearly. She brushed a lock of hair (that Harry saw came just past his shoulders) off his thin, youthful face. He couldn't be older than twenty-five. Around his head was a wreath of fresh green laurel leaves rather magnificent and honourable in his own right. His eyes were gently closed and his eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly as though having a nightmare,

"For many years, his spirit has been sealed here. For two centuries, he has remained in the Moon Medallion, dreaming of his past. But no more." The woman turned to him. If he could see the whole of her face, it would be likely that she would be looking grim, "Harry Potter. Danger is coming on us. The Moon Items are released to their destined owners. The fated time has come. Gabriel must be awakened."

"But..." The Baron looked like he was dead. How could he...

"The heart of Gabriel is still beating, albeit feebly. He is still breathing although barely. You are the one that must awaken him from his slumber."

"But..." Harry repeated. Him? But he didn't know how.

"Put your hand on his heart."

Harry felt himself move closer to him. The woman released his chin so his head flopped back down. Harry felt like this wasn't going to work but, still, he stretched out his hand and laid it carefully over the Baron's heart. Harry was starting to think this was all a bit far-fetched. How was this going to wake the Baron up? _I can't feel any heartbeat..._

As if in answer to his thoughts, he suddenly felt the Baron's heart give a very powerful beat. A beat that reverberated right through Harry's body. His heart began to beat rhythmically and the pendant began to glow again. He wanted to withdraw his hand but couldn't. A suddenly wind blew the Baron's head up and his hair all around him. Unseen to Harry, the woman vanished, her job done. Suddenly, the pendant emitted a burst of light that threw Harry back, away from Baron.

* * *

Harry tentatively opened his eyes a few moments later. He had hit the floor of the room that had now lost its unearthly lighting and the candles, fire and chandelier were lit ever so slightly. Massaging the side of his face that had hit the floor, Harry tentatively raised his head off the floor and looked up to where the Baron was held. Only to see that him and the vines had vanished.

Harry looked down again and saw the Baron sprawled on the floor, face down. His eyes were still closed and this frightened Harry for a second, making him think he might be dead; but, as he watched, the Baron's clothes began to change. A moment later, the laurel had vanished and the robe had been replaced with much simpler clothes; a blood-red shirt, buttoned right up to the collar, dark trousers and darker shoes. A white cloak appeared with the bottom right hand corner curled around his right elbow, presumably to keep it out of the way. Despite this attire, he kept his strangely magnificent air.

A pair of silver horn-rimmed glasses with red-tinted lenses appeared on the edge of his long nose and, finally, a pendant exactly identical to the one Harry had been wearing appeared around his neck.

Harry stared. Then, he gave a small jump as Baron stirred. He raised his head and ran a hand through his hair, opening his eyes. Harry saw they were a deep, emerald green, gradually growing in focus. Baron slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes, unaware of Harry for the moment (and Harry felt he would have liked it that way). He raised his eyes and squinted around, his eyes not used to the now growing light,

"What ist?" he said to himself. He had a deep, wise and confident voice. One of a leader and a mentor and one that suited him, "The Moon Medallion? So familiar and so strange it - but soft…!" He began, looking at the clothes he was wearing. He turned round to have a look at the rest of the room and then, caught sight of Harry, making him jump and freeze. Baron blinked in surprise and, then, seemed to understand. He said quickly, "Forgive me. I beheld you not." He held out his hand politely in a form of greeting, "I am Baron Gabriel de Cinclion; Spirit of the Moon Medallion and Exiled." Harry shook his hand,

"I'll just call you Baron, shall I?"

"If that is your will. What name do you go by?"

"Harry; it's…Harry Potter." Harry never thought he'd have to introduce himself to a wizard,

"Harry, congratulations are prudent."

"What d'you mean?"

"You know not? Baron of Hogsmeade was I when the seventeenth century was meeting its death. Harry, knowest of the War of the Exiled? The Unfinished War? Ah, it matters not. The Moon Items seven; Visus Oracle their father…"

"Hang on," Harry said, thinking back, "I've heard that name. Wasn't he a maker of magical tools? And I know something about a daughter helping him…"

"You have me deceived, Harry! Visus Oracle had a daughter, Topaz, who, when a mere girl, did deliver them to their owners. Such enchantments were woven there, their spirits and sorcery were sealed within when the flesh hath rejected them."

"Where are these Moon Items?" Harry remembered the woman mentioning them, while wondering how on earth he could understand Baron's words,

"Harry, hast you no sense?" groaned Baron, "We both bear an Item now!" He pointed to the pendant around Harry's neck (he'd nearly forgotten about it), "Ist the Moon Medallion."

Harry still didn't have a clue about any of this, "Just what are the Moon Items?"

"Vessels of Sorcery; that magic that is more potent than regular and cannot be easily performed. Those fortunate who own Moon Items hath the ability; as you."

"Me?"

Harry gaped. Having powers like that? Him? How could he possibly do it? Baron looked rather amused at Harry's expression. He then said,

"My guidance will steady your hand. I will arrange your thoughts."

Harry felt rather relieved. At least he wasn't expected to do it straight away! He then remembered to ask something, "Where are we?"

"The Moon Medallion." Baron answered, having a look round, "The Moon Medallion does pilot us here."

Still confused, Harry was about to ask Baron to explain a bit more but, instead, he asked, "How come no one else can do it? Sorcery, I mean?"

"People wrong it without cause. Ist the first instant you have found this?"

"Yeah." Harry then added, "But I've lived with Muggles all my life. I only found out I was a wizard two years ago."

Baron was surveying him; rather like a parent would, "You be not born of Muggles."

"I know. But I live with my aunt and uncle."

Baron then stood up and held out his hand to help Harry do the same. Harry then found out the Baron was very tall, towering over him but not in a menacing way. His eyes then rested on his forehead, "May I?" He raised his hand, level to Harry's face. Harry nodded. Baron moved back Harry's fringe, "By the powers..." he breathed as one of his long, elegant fingers traced the outline of his scar. Harry even felt his scar tingle a little as Baron touched it, as if recognizing something, "...what ist? This mark is old and yet I sense the magic within hast not yet faded."

Harry blinked, surprised. No one who had touched his scar had ever said that! Baron then began to become very interested in Harry's past and asked him to explain. But, as Harry opened his mouth to start, Baron held up a hand, "Sit you down beside me. This back permits me not to move freely."

So, Harry sat down with Baron and explained to him. Baron made a very good audience. He gave appropriate reactions in all the right places and, when he asked questions, they weren't too intruding. When Harry had finished, he straightened up and said,

"Well, young Harry, part with me awhile. My mind does begin to awaken forgotten thoughts."

There was a blinding flash of white light this time and Harry felt rather as if he was being dragged up by a hook that had taken hold of the back of his neck. Rising up through a bright tunnel of light. Up; up; up…until he slowed down and floated gently down to earth. He felt his feet touch something solid and, as soon as he was standing, the light vanished. He was standing in his quiet room. He looked around. No one was there. _Good._ Harry sat down at his desk where the box still stood.

* * *

A/N: Okay, as soon as I finish these chapter changes, I'll get down to the next chapter! 


	2. Trapped

A/N (04/09/07) Not much of a change, just a few bits and pieces.

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 2: Trapped

The rain didn't bother her. In fact, she didn't even feel it. It fell all around her but never struck her. Moving across the muddy ground, her movements made no noise. Yet the footfalls of the dogs around her squelched and splashed, scarring the lawn and the flowerbeds. The air was very still. There was no wind to direct the rain. The droplets of water fell perfectly vertically, blotchily darkening the gravel path like an artist's dull palette.

She did not see any of it. Practically gliding across the lawn, she came to the gravel. Not a clatter or a crunch could give her away as she moved up the path. She knew that the master and mistress of the house would be back shortly. She had to be swift. The darkened steps lay ahead. Stone gargoyles with feathery wings and faces like snakes leered at her.

She ignored them. They bore no threat. Serenely passing them, she opened the locked door with ease and slipped inside. No sooner had she heard the lock slide back into place, she made her way across the entrance hall. A grand staircase lay before, nearly all covered by a path of blood red carpet. Following the path towards it, she made no noise. Not a single footfall. The candlelight danced on the tiara she wore and illuminated a box in her arms.

Instead of going up the staircase, she turned and moved down a path of carpet, leading to a partly opened door. Going at the same speed as before, she felt it. She was going the right way. She would find him here.

Not bothering to open the door, she slipped through the gap without much difficulty. There, before her, lay a large drawing room, with busts and vases dotted around the walls of the room, declaring wealth in every aspect. She wasn't interested in them, however. What caught her attention was the room's only occupant.

It was a boy, in his early teens, lightly dozing on a leather sofa. Even though his sleep was very light, he did not hear her move right up close to him. She knew it was he. The boy who would be one of the Chosen few. She ran a few fingers over his face. He would wake soon. She had to move quickly. No sooner had she entered, she was gone.

* * *

_Oh, God, I am __**bored.**_ Draco thought this as he lounged about on the luxury leather sofa, half asleep. _Oh, I do wish this infernal rain would let up. _Yes, rain was lashing the windows and falling so thickly outside that he couldn't see a thing outside. _How Mother and Father are going to do all my school shopping today, I don't know! _Draco ran a hand through his platinum blond hair. _Why was it always raining on the last day of the summer holidays?_

_Might as well get something to eat. The parents probably won't be back for ages and it's around lunchtime anyway. _He opened his eyes and pulled himself off the sofa, feeling strangely tired, as one might feel when you've lying on a sofa for a long time. He exited the lavish drawing room and dragged himself into the Entrance Hall.

_CREEAAAK..._

A sudden sound coming from the basement study made him jump. It was a deep, ominous creak like someone stepping on a loose floorboard.

Draco thought nothing of it. _Probably just the new house-elf; Ren or whatever her name was._ He came into the pantry and came to a cupboard where he knew his mother kept sweets and cakes for after dinner. At the back of the cupboard would be the sweets she sent to him during school. She didn't know that he had realised where it was. He was always sure to close the cupboard after stealing something and, if he was careless and left it open, she blamed it on the house-elf. He took the key from its 'secret' place (under the vase that contained a few dark blue flowers) and unlocked it.

He grinned greedily as he reached for a chocolate frog...

_CRRRREEEEAAAAAKKK!_

Just then, the creak sounded again; this time louder, almost persistent. Draco looked over his shoulder as if expected a stranger to be standing over him. _Okay, I think I should have a look._ He thought. Doubts crept into his head as he stood up and left the pantry, not bothering to close the cupboard or take out the key. He wasn't allowed down there unless giving his father a message. The basement had been made into a series of studies where his father did his work. As he passed a wall with a collection of fencing foils, he took one down. _Might as well. If I use any magic, the Ministry will know it's me because I'm the only person here._

He looked around the Entrance Hall. The creaking sounded again. Yes, it was definitely coming from the basement. _Right, I'll take a look down there. If someone's there, I'll get them! _He edged toward the door and turned the handle. It was unlocked. Strange; it was nearly always locked. He had even seen his father lock it before he left the house. It opened smoothly without any hindrances. The staircase descending into darkness looked rather foreboding and Draco took a step backwards.

_Pull yourself together, boy! _The voice of his father sounded in his head. _It's all in your mind. There is nothing to be scared of. Just go down there. There's nothing stopping you. You're just being stupid._ Draco threw back his hair and raised his weapon. He sneaked down the stone staircase. He frowned as the smell of water lilies hung in the air on the staircase. _Odd. Mother doesn't have that sort of perfume. Well, I don't think she does._ Then, singing reached his ears, with tinkling piano music,

"_T'was Grace...that taught..._"

"Who's there?" Draco raised his weapon, out of instinct. It sounded like a duet, a man and a woman combined. He thought they might be back in the drawing room since an old piano rested there but no. The sound was coming from the depths of the basement, "Who's there?"

"_...my heart...to fear..._"

_Someone's down there…_He could instantly see the door at the bottom was ajar and light was coming from within the room, "_...And, Grace...my fears...relieved..."_

Draco pushed open the door a fraction and peered in. _Ah, _he thought with annoyance, _still can't see a thing. I'm going to have to open it._ He took a deep breath and kicked the door wide open, raising the foil. As soon as the door was open, the singing stopped abruptly. As though someone had just silenced a gramophone. But there was no gramophone in the study. Nothing there; absolutely nothing was in the book-lined room. Draco frowned. Had Father just been careless and left the light on and the doors unlocked? Draco looked around. There was nothing there. Still, he felt an unbidden chill run up his spine.

Just then, his shadow fell on the bookcase he was looking at. As if there was a light coming from behind him. He cautiously looked around. Perhaps there was a secret tunnel that led into the study. No. No secret tunnel. A box in between two books was giving off a bright white glow, seeming to have a light of its own. After briefly noting that the titles of the books were _Bad Enemy Wizards And Righteous Eradicators _and _New Enigmas Keeping Reserves On Shore_, Draco frowned and curiously approached, letting the foil down. He reached out his hand for it but, just before his fingers touched it, it stopped glowing.

He felt almost like he'd discovered some great secret. The reason his father did not allow him into his study. A secret someone had been keeping from him and he had finally found it. _At last! I have finally found it!_ Dropping the foil, ignoring the more potent water lily scent and the fleeting snatch of, "_How precious..._", he picked it up and opened it eagerly; a greedy and almost malicious grin on his face. The inside of the box was lined with crinkled dark violet silk and resting inside was a silver pendant consisted of a ring with a narrow moon in the middle. Three silver feathers were hanging off the bottom of the metal ring and glittered almost surreally. It was a very fragile and old looking thing. To anyone else it would have looked evil and wicked for some reason and they would be right to do so.

However, to Draco, it was the most beautiful thing in the world, "..._did that Grace appear..._" He looked at it, hungrily, unaware of the wicked grin spreading over his face. If anyone had been in the room at the time, they would have seen a dramatic change come over the boy. When he had come down, he had been the normal Draco Malfoy he was: cold with an arrogant air, no matter what his expression or feelings were. Now, however, he looked no longer like a boy at all. The wicked grin was still on his face and he was breathing hard in an almost triumphant way, "..._the hour...I first..._"

Draco ran a finger over its ice cold surface. A exhilarating thrill went up his body. He had the sudden urge to put it on. An urge he could not fight and one he didn't want to fight, "_...believed..._" He moved his hands to the rope attached to it, dipped his head to put it on and…

* * *

"Draco! We're home!"

Draco seemed to snap out of a trance and lowered the pendant. The music too had been silenced but it went unnoticed. He looked toward the door where his parents' voices were coming from. He put the ring pendant back in its box and hurried up the stairs. _Should I show this to Father? _He thought, as he hid outside the door, waiting for his parents' backs to turn. _No_, said a voice in his head, _he hid it from you. Why should you tell him? No, keep the secret. After all, if he sees you with it, he'll know you were down there._

Draco ducked out of the study as his father turned his back and hurried up the stairs. He managed to hide behind a Ming vase just before his parents turned round. His mother shrugged, "Probably in his room. Forget about him. I'll get the house-elf to make some lunch and…oh, looks like she left the light in your study on _again_!"

His father sighed, "Again? Honestly, can't she do anything? Not even come to take the bags! Ren! REN!"

Draco waited until the two of them had moved out of the hall along with the numerous shopping bags. _I bet they've bought loads of the things for themselves. They always do. They only get me something if I'm there, doing the shopping with them. And they left me in the house on my own, without even asking me if there was anything I wanted!_

Wait; what on earth was he thinking? _It's that pendant that's doing it. Ever since I looked at it; I've been thinking these weird thoughts. It might even have a spell on it to drive the owner mad. That's probably why Father keeps it down in the basement. So no one else don't go mad. _He then felt something that he would never to show on the outside: panic.

_I have to get rid of it and quickly!_ He ran up to his room; unconsciously clutching the box to his chest. Ignoring the staring portraits, he ran; up staircases, along corridors (the Malfoy house was very large, needless to say) and finally to his room. He slammed the door shut in his haste and went out onto the balcony. The rain had stopped at it had started to warm up. Draco hardly noticed. _I'll drop it off the balcony. It's old. It's fragile. It'll smash. No one'll notice it's gone_. Draco held out the box but then, as he made to loosen his hand, he found he couldn't. His hand seemed to freeze. He couldn't let go! He tried and tried and tried to break his grip until...

_But why, though?_ The crafty voice was back in his head; as the wicked grin crept back onto his face. _Why let go? You never know what powers it might have. Powers you could have. You don't know whether it's evil. You just assumed it when you were needlessly panicking. Just put on the pendant. Put on the pendant then you will know all. Do it, Draco. Slip the pendant around your neck. It would be so easy. Your parents would never know. Just put it on, nice and slowly now._

Draco lowered his head to place it round his neck and then paused. _This pendant. Just __**what**__ is it? These thoughts going through my head...why are they coming so easily to me?_

His mother's voice came from downstairs, calling him down for lunch. Should he go? Should he leave it to later? _This can't wait, Draco!_ _Just put it on! It will only take a second! Just do it, boy! Now!_ Draco took a deep breath and, just in case he might change his mind if this was put off any longer, swung the dream catcher-like pendant around his neck.

It happened as suddenly as a lightning strike. His mother's voice stopped calling him. In fact, every single noise came to a halt: birds chirping, the trees rustling the breeze; everything. Draco for a moment feared he might have gone deaf. Then, all of a sudden, jets of darkness rained around him like prison bars. The jets arched high and then connected so no light filtered through and he was alone in the darkness.

Draco looked around with frightened eyes. Not that it was any use. It didn't matter whether he kept his eyes shut or open. Just as he took a step backwards, he felt a pair of arms slide slowly around his waist as if someone was embracing him from behind. He then felt what he thought was metal brushing against his cheek. The arms felt icy cold as if a corpse were holding him and strangely smooth. He then heard a soft, sinister, somewhat echoing voice whisper in his ear, "Well, hello there, handsome."

"Who-who are you?"

"I've been with you ever since you opened that box, mortal youth. Whispering in your ear. Telling you what to do since you are so dim-witted to pause before placing the Moon Ring around your neck."

"The Moon Ring?"

"My God, you are slow for someone so pretty! What you have around your neck, dunce! What I told you to put on. You'll find that I can be very…persuasive." One of the hands then moved from around his waist and began to play with Draco's hair. What on earth was this person doing? He voiced this aloud. The answer came in the same soft whisper that gave Draco's spine a chill like it never had, "I was just examining what will soon be mine."

"What…do you mean?"

"What I mean, Draco Malfoy, is that your pretty little soul is now in my property."

He could then feel his head being tilted back and icy cold fingers run up his neck. The heat rose up his neck as well as a large dose of discomfort. He wrenched himself away from the man's grasp. His soul was that hair-raising man's property? _This can only mean one thing_, thought Draco, now horror-struck. _That Moon Ring or whatever it was called kills people and delivers their souls to him! So that means...I'm dead! But this can't be!_

Draco heard the same sinister laugh and suddenly, torches flared into life. They were no longer in his bedroom. They were in an empty dungeon-like room that was freezing cold. Draco shivered; hugging himself while his breath appeared before him as steam. There were chains hanging from cruel-looking stone walls that were smeared with something that looked horribly like blood. The smell in the air was proof of it. Draco turned his gaze to the person who had embraced him.

Draco didn't manage to scream but it was a close thing. The person had the body of a young man of around twenty but the little of his skin that Draco could see was jet black and his face was covered by a helmet that showed only the front of his neck. The eyeholes were slanting up and his eyes were only visible as a scorching red gleam, blazing into his very soul. The helmet itself had two curled horns like a ram and a ridge in between them like a shark's fin.

The hair was the same colour as Draco's but the other's came down past his hips, lying limp, uncaring for and looking rather lifeless with the tips dyed dark red like blood. He wore a simple, ragged blue surcoat, another Moon Ring around his neck, identical to Draco's, and from his shoulders flowed a tattered violet cloak. The robe sleeves were torn off completely. Over his surcoat was steel armour, covering nearly every inch of his body and making him look more inhuman than anything. Now he realised why the arms had felt smooth.

Draco backed off a little. _What was __**that**_

The thing smirked and said, "I am Count Jean de Nekros: terror of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts; soul-stealer; Thief Lord of Hogsmeade; Master of the Dark Arts. Hah..." he gave a laugh like bones breaking, echoing slightly within the helmet, "You're afraid of me; aren't you, Draco? I can see you trembling as I speak and y'know what? That's exactly what I want. My come-back plan is working perfectly. I have found the one who can release the Moon Ring's mighty energies and I can return to the world of the living in that _magnificent_ body of yours, Draco."

Draco shook his head frantically as Nekros chuckled maliciously. _This wasn't happening! This had to be a dream or some kind of joke_, "You-you can't!" he stuttered, flushing at the stutter in his voice, "I-I won't let you!"

"And how do you propose to stop me, pray tell?"

Draco didn't mean to say the last four words. They just came out. Draco was indeed shaking and not because of the cold. No matter how hard he thought, he could not find a way of stopping Nekros. Not on his own. Well, he was all alone here. He didn't even have his wand on him. The boy's heart grew cold as he realised his fate. There was nothing he could do. He lowered his head and Nekros gave a hearty, horrible laugh,

"Draco, do you seriously expect that a lowly mortal such as yourself could ever stop an immortal spirit like me? There are no mortals who can. Face it, young master Malfoy, the special thing about you is your _exceptional_ beauty."

"C-could you stop doing that, please?"

"Doing what, _gorgeous_?" Nekros said this rather seductively. Draco flinched, feeling more uncomfortable by the second.

"Saying that I'm pretty. It's just…it's just…"

"It's just true, boy. I'm quite glad to have a body like yours to steal. Ooh, I won't be able to resist looking in a mirror. Yes, Draco, your soul is going to stay here. Within the impenetrable confines of the Moon Ring. Now, I'm going to examine my new body in the real world." Nekros turned and made to leave. Draco fell to his knees. He was going to be trapped here! In this dank cold dungeon! The boy shivered and hugged himself again. Nekros's voice then said, "Oh, I almost forgot."

Draco looked up. Nekros was approaching him with a sadistic smirk on his face. _This does not look good_, he thought and he was right to do so. The black-skinned spirit grabbed Draco by the collar and pulled him up onto his feet, "I like to have a little fun with the souls I steal." he hissed, "I want you on your feet so I can knock you back down! I was thinking about putting you under a spell so your mind will be constantly tormented by demons." Draco gave a sharp intake of breath at the thought, "but then I thought, no. You are so young in years." he released it again. _Maybe Nekros __**will**__ go easy on me_, "I have decided to wipe your memory. All of it. And make you my prisoner that I can just leave on their own. Souls need neither food not fire. You are as good as a ghost."

The boy was mouthing in pure fear, all allusions of mercy gone, "Y-you can't do that! I-I'm pureblood, y'know." The last fact had just come out in desperation. Even though, by the look on Nekros's face, it would not work. Nekros laughed derisively at him. It was like being stabbed with knives to hear it and made Draco want to cover his ears,

"Do you seriously think I care what sort of blood you've got? For your information, I couldn't care less if you were black, white, young, old, pureblood, blood-traitor, half-blood or Mudblood. They are all cold-hearted, self-centred monsters. Their only purpose is for me to make them suffer like I did suffer!" He clenched his fists and said the last statement through gritted teeth. He then seemed to realise what he did and stopped, leering again, "Now, as for purebloods, I have a special _loathing_ for them. Heartless beasts; the lot of them. Draco, does your heart grow cold? A fate worse than death is only moments away. Now, my dear, you have had enough long moments to cherish your memories. For now they will be gone!"

* * *

A/N You'll see a bit more of Nekros's pureblood hatred in later chapters. 


	3. Suspicions

A/N: (10/12/07): More Shakespeare talk!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 3: Suspicions

Harry leapt onto the Hogwarts Express after Mr Weasley made him swear not to go looking for Sirius Black (_But why on earth would I do that?_). Harry had told Hermione and Ron about it and Baron seemed to have been listening because a minute later, his voice came into Harry's head, "So, this Sirius Black hunts you?"

Harry very nearly yelled and jumped out of his seat but he felt a hand over his mouth and another on his shoulder to keep him down. Harry glanced sideways. Baron was sitting next to him, looking completely solid. He whispered "Be collected;" Correctly reading Harry's sideways glance at Ron and Hermione who were both ignoring the fact that Baron had appeared, he explained, "let your mind speak to me. Your friends have no awareness of me.Be collected, I say. Now, Black…I have known that name. A family whose pure blood is strict. I liked Black not; he was a villain. Those of Muggle heritage did coldly feel his blunted bigotry."

_Yeah, they still have them around now._

Baron sighed, "Its absence was too much to desire."

Hermione then seemed to notice Harry's sudden silence, "Harry, are you okay? Are you thinking about something?"  
Harry jumped, becoming flustered as if Hermione had caught him doing something embarrassing, "Er…nothing!" Hermione smiled knowingly and, for a moment, Harry was scared that she could see Baron and knew everything. But she just said,

"It's okay to be scared of Black, Harry. We're scared for you, too. You don't have to be ashamed."

Harry stopped himself from wiping the anxious sweat off his forehead and let out a breath. _Why am I keeping this from Hermione and Ron? _Harry thought, _I've told them about Black, haven't I? I should be okay to tell them about Baron and the Moon Medallion. _The Moon Medallion was hidden under his clothes. He raised a hand to pull it out but Baron gripped his wrist to stop him and a warning look made its way onto his face,

_But they're my friends…_

"Harry; not a whisper must escape. An ill time to do't."

_An ill time? Okay, Baron, you've lost me._

"Oh, I do forget. Harry, as we were standing on the platform, I did feel a powerful force. That feeling hast followed me."

_Meaning…?_

"A very powerful mage does furnish this train. Far powerful than any mortal magic."

_A Sorcerer?_

"Yes; ist possible. Mark it; evil lingers…"

Before Baron could continue, the compartment door slid open and Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle walked in. The spirit fell silent in a second and gave Malfoy a thoughtful look, as if trying to see right through him. Harry took his gaze off Baron and scowled at Malfoy, who, predictably, was smirking, "Well, look who it is. Potty and the Weasel."

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Heard your family finally got their hands on some gold in the summer, Weasley. Did your mother die of shock?"

Baron looked rather scandalised at this point, as if the insult had been directed at him. Harry thought he heard him mutter, "Why, villain…!"

Just then, Ron had made an angry movement towards Malfoy and toppled Crookshanks's cage onto the floor. The noise made the sleeping Professor Lupin in the corner snort. Malfoy looked up, "Who's that?" he asked, eying his patched, frayed and darned robes, which aggravated Baron even further,

"New teacher." Harry said quickly. Anything to stop Baron muttering. Harry was a bit scared that Baron might become so angry he would appear as if from thin air. It would give Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle heart attacks. Well, Harry wasn't so bothered about Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. But Malfoy wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose so he beckoned his cronies out and they all retreated from the compartment,

The spirit next to Harry fumed silently.

_Calm down! Calm down! Don't take any rubbish from Malfoy. He's just doing it to get us angry and for us to pick a fight with him._

That seemed to do the trick. Baron leant back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair, "I am aggravated without just cause. School frays must ne'er warrant this. This ecstasy must not repeat. O, so full of fire is my mind, dear friend." For a moment, he sounded old and weary. Harry checked Ron and Hermione weren't looking and patted Baron's shoulder.

_It's okay. You've been stuffed in that thing for two hundred years. You're bound to do that sort of thing._

"Hast it been three centuries since flesh clothed me?"

_Anyway, what were you saying about something evil here?_

"I endeavour not to shock your spirits but not since I lived did I feel such evil in a being. Draco; he doth carry this and sticks these concerns in my heart. How now, Harry! What meaning gives your face?"

_Well, I'm not surprised. I mean, it's Malfoy, isn't it? Last year, I thought that it was him who opened the Chamber of Secrets…_

"Mean you Slytherin's Chamber that ist told to be quarters of that Muggleborn-razing beast?"

_Yeah._

"Didst you not say it had opened?"

_Yeah, twice. But the monster's dead now._

"I shall hear't later. Harry, with all of Draco's blunted blades; with all his predispositious daggers, mortal and human is he. Ne'er a mortal or human bears such emphasis of evil as I felt. Draco is not Draco…"

"Harry!" Hermione's voice broke into Baron and Harry's conversation. Harry jumped as if receiving an electric shock, completely forgetting to ask how he knew Malfoy's name. He had half forgotten that Ron and Hermione were still there. He looked at Hermione as Baron fell silent, "You're being very quiet, Harry."

"Yeah and why were you looking at that seat next to you?"

"It looked rather like you could see someone or something there."

Ron then stood up and reached out to where Baron was. Harry glanced sideways and saw Ron's hands go straight through the solid looking spirit. He couldn't help but wince at the sight. Ron then seemed to think there was nothing there.

He made to sit down when the train jolted to a halt, knocking him to the floor. The spirit next to Harry looked rather perplexed, "Hogwarts is not so close." The noise of the pistons fell and the lights flicked off suddenly. Baron kept a hand on Harry's shoulder. He knew something was up.

There was a moment of confusion where a few other people joined them. Baron heard the names Ginny and Neville; yet he couldn't see their faces. Professor Lupin woke up at one point and lit a small fire in his hand. _Impressive magic,_ thought the spirit, _ist an accomplished man and yet he unsettles my spirit. _He gave Lupin a hard look for a moment and then..._oh, my soul..._

As soon as he had thought this, a horribly familiar feeling crept up on him. The door slowly slid open and an all-too-familiar hooded figure stood or rather hovered in the doorway. Baron scowled, "Dementor…" This seemed to draw the attention of the beast. It withdrew the slimy hand and looked toward him. The joy-sucking creature could not use its powers on Baron because he was a spirit. Spirits could not be touched by Dementors but he remembered their icy powers all too well.

Baron suddenly felt Harry go rigid next to him, "Harry!" Harry then fell off his seat and began twitching, as if having an epileptic fit. Baron dropped to his knees so quickly that he actually hurt them. He didn't care though. He reached into his host's mind but all he found was coldness like drowning and a woman's screams, "Harry! Harry!" He glanced back at the Dementor. It had drawn itself up to its full height in an almost triumphant way. Lupin then produced a Patronus which chased the Dementor off. _Ooh, Dementors burn my heart._ The lights flared back on and Harry's friends rushed to his side. Baron stepped away and saw Neville Longbottom, hovering over Harry, looking worried.

He then noticed a red-haired girl curled up on a seat; looking very shaken and upset. He saw her face, noted that she was Ginny Weasley and then did a double take. _Why, how much alike…Gabriel, think not upon it. She is dead and gone._ He turned his attention back to Harry. He seemed to be coming round. Baron hovered behind Hermione as Harry stood up shakily. Lupin broke up a large slab of chocolate; handing a particularly big piece to Harry. _Well versed in remedies too. Perhaps experience taught him._

He sat back down next to Harry and placed an arm round him. He felt shivery; he was quaking all over, "You should eat." The boy took a bite out of the chocolate but still looked rather perplexed.

_What happened to me?_

"You looked as one epileptic; indeed, a fit. Didst you hear screaming?"

_Yeah. Who screamed? Did anyone else pass out?_

"Ne'er did they scream. Ne'er did they hear." He turned back to the door where the Dementor had stood, "Dementors are those I do not love to look on."

Harry did not reply. Baron frowned and looked over to his host. Harry avoided the spirit's eye. Baron then understood. Harry thought he was weak by fainting in front of a Dementor when no one else had. Of course, he had seen it before. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, "Harry, no delicate are you. Others hast collapse and others shalt have. Alas, the fault is mine. Animosity hath tongue and sword; it speaks and stabs betwixt me and Dementors. I was recognised."

_How come you're enemies with Dementors?_

"T'was when I was live did the country become sick with bitter war. A conflict between the four Sorcerers of Light and the three Sorcerers of Darkness made summer winter with discontent. The Dementors did bring the Dark wintry chill with their masters."

_There were Sorcerers of Darkness?_

"Know that there in every place, there is evil's slave. I, the leader of those against, did fight bravely against their slings and arrows. Fortune doth make our toil weightless. 'Tis my worst remorse that hell-kites were oft not merciful. Tis wormwood to my soul. Ne'er was there a more terrible time than when villages were fire's fuel and lives thrown to vultures. Ne'er observing intention, the Ministry, with fires in their minds and thorns in their eyes, banished us all from the populace in first annum, with warnings ne'er to show our faces when casting Sorcery else we be punish'd."

_That sounds awful…_

"Yea, friend. Their decision laid cold on our hearts. Mother gave fiery protest against't but they were merciless. From our house was she and Father cast and banished with us. Ne'er did absolve the Ministry after that. Said they hostility, even fear, I would, but _banishment_! My wounds bleed afresh when I think of their injustice. We were forc'd to veil countenance, else we face prosecution. Those Dark Sorcerers fought veiled too, though they feared no punishment. E'er that time, we were known as the Exiled.

"Never were there kindless villains than the Dark Sorcerers. Their skin reflected their blackened hearts. Yea, they curs'd themselves to discard humanity and their skin blacken. Their unharméd souls were little consolation.

"Their leader; never will you meet more a monstrous rogue! So childlike in his acts, yet was ne'er caught. Count Jean de Nekros; no fallible reason had he to take arms against us."

_How did you defeat him?_

"One fatal error in those villains was that they ne'er became a triple-pillar, united against their foes as did we. Lo, victory sat happily with us!!"

Baron swelled out his chest proudly. That act, along with his horn-rimmed glasses, made him look rather like Percy and Harry suppressed a chuckle. He then realised something.

_Er, Baron, didn't you say when I first met you that there were seven Exiled and each had a Moon item?_

Baron deflated and looked at him quizzically, "What, ho, Harry?"

_Does this mean that the Dark Sorcerers' spirits are locked inside Moon Items too? That they could find their…ah…Chosen Ones and they could come out again?_

The spirit suddenly looked worried, "O, Heaven, Harry. Yea, they controlled Moon Items, which, when the timely host doth come, shall announce the spirit within."

_Baron, if their souls are in Moon Items, which ones are they?_

The young spirit sighed, looking weary again, "My mind doth betray me. Knowledge does not with me sit as did before. I know not. But evil should not unwatch'd go."

* * *

The train pulled into Hogsmeade Station as Harry got into a carriage with Hermione, Ron and, of course, Baron. When they reached Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione were pulled aside by Professor McGonagall. Baron followed, walking straight through people to keep up, rather like a solid ghost. He asked Harry who McGonagall was (again, he seemed to know her name without asking). When he told him she was the Transfiguration teacher, he began telling Harry a story about when he had lost his temper with his teacher and thrown all his books out of the window.

McGonagall then had a very grim discussion with them about Harry fainting on the train. Harry privately agreed with Baron's scowls. He hated being questioned, especially by McGonagall and later Madam Pomfrey who called him…

"I'm not delicate!"

Harry whole-heartedly agreed with Baron's scowl, though growing more and more puzzled at Baron's knowledge of names. They were dismissed from McGonagall's office after she had had a word with Hermione and walked into the Great Hall. Baron looked around smiling,

"Ah, my heart doth become warm to see how unchang'd Hogwarts is." He looked toward the staff table and asked Harry to point them out to him. It amused Harry greatly to hear Baron describe Snape as 'one worthy of a bat's slave'.

Dumbledore stood up to make a speech. He first said that the Dementors would be guarding the school. This made Baron scream, "_O, hell-kite! Dementors! Hast you no sense?_"

_BARON!_ Harry yelled in thought over the other's ranting. _Dumbledore doesn't like the Dementors either. It's the Ministry you should be yelling at. So calm down and shut up._

Dumbledore was completely oblivious to Baron's angry outburst as was everyone. He continued to say that Lupin was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. There was polite applause that Baron joined in with but then he noticed Snape's expression, "Resentment doth sit with Snape,"

_That's a bit of an understatement._

"He teaches?"

_He teaches Potions but everyone knows that he really wants to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. He's been after the job for years and he hates me. Because he and my dad were arch-enemies at school. _

"O, Jove. No stranger to the Dark Arts is he; ne'er a stranger to Hades. Dark manner doth surround him…"

Baron trailed off thoughtfully. Harry, meanwhile, began to ask how he knew everyone's names but he was distracted by Dumbledore saying that Hagrid was going to be the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Harry clapped and cheered along with the rest of the Gryffindors. The spirit standing behind Harry applauded too, smiling amusedly at the students, "Ist he popular?"

_Yeah! Should have known it would be Hagrid. Who else would give us a biting book?_

Baron stiffened, "I beg your pardon? Ist this wherefore I heard tearing of paper?"

_Yeah. The Monster Book of Monsters and no one can open it without getting their hands ripped off and…don't start your little rant again. I've just fallen foul of a Dementor and the last thing I need is for you to yell down my ear._

"Oh, yes…forgive me…what man ist Hagrid, can I ask? Familiarity doth come betwixt you."

_Yeah, he was the first person who told me about Hogwarts, wizards and all that. He's the gamekeeper._

"Hast he giant lineage but, ne'erth'less a pleasant man."

_Oh, yeah, he's great! Mind you, he has befriended giant spiders, bought a three-headed dog and once owned a baby dragon._

Harry decided to stop at this point because Baron looked so scandalised that he was afraid he might start shouting again. Instead, he went over to congratulate Hagrid with Ron and Hermione. When they reached the Gryffindor Tower, Baron smiled in recognition at the Fat Lady and at the Gryffindor Common Room, declaring that it was like he'd never left.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I'm just editing the chapters with Baron in them. I'm confident that nothing else needs changing...yet... 


	4. Shadows of the Past

A/N: (12/10/07): Made the talk more Shakespearing again.

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 4: Shadows of the Past

_A woman knelt before an alter, clasping rosaries in her gloved hands, a golden ring glistening on her right ring finger. This ring and her white satin gloves contrasted sharply with her simple, peasant-like clothes. A coffin lay before her, open and containing a dead man with long red hair. A long burn-line ran around his throat, as if he had been strangled by something red-hot. A long wooden spear lay beside her with a crystalline point. Everything was painted by multicoloured light streaming through the stained glass windows around them._

_When she had finished praying, she opened her hands. A crushed white rose was revealed within them. The petals scattered on the man's body and a fine icing of frost from her spear covered them. On the woman's command, the man became coated in white frost._

_Opening her shining eyes, she stood up and pulled the lid over him, "If forgiveness is what God teaches," she whispered, "let him be forgiven in the far future when he rises again."_

_She stood there for a moment, gazing with a somewhat regretful expression at her beloved deceased. Only then did the other people in the church make themselves known. A priest in white led a teenage girl in rich clothes, who was obviously related to the woman and yet did not share her sadness. In fact, she even looked a little bored, as if she didn't really know the frozen person in the coffin and was only here for the woman's sake. The priest too looked like he would rather have been somewhere else._

_Before they reached her however, the woman gasped, clasping her heart, falling to the floor as if having a heart attack,_

_"Lady Weasley!"_

_"Sister!"_

_The woman clutched her heart, her breath clenched. The two knelt beside her, trying to help but it was too late,_

_"Father," she looked up at the priest, "Make haste, by Saint Joan. Make haste with me to...confession."_

_"Confess now." he advised, "Unhappy time does not favour thou."  
"The Dark Sorcerers summoned me, not God." The priest stared, probably wondering whether she was in earnest, "I was meant to be their servant...but I fled them...I attacked my brother...many frays with him. O, I have sinned many times and not confessed..."_

_"Attacking __**him**__ was not a sin!" screamed her sister, hysterical. The older glared at her,_

_"I sincerely anticipate that thoust all confess for his injuries...God may yet forgive..." Her breath clenched again and she tensed, making her sister cry out,_

_"You cannot die! By God, I forbid it!"_

_The woman's breathing was restricted. The priest pulled an arm around his shoulders and hauled her up. He made to pull her towards the door but she held onto the railings around the alter, "If thou be merciful," she glared up at him, the spark of life burning brightly in her eyes, "lay me with Julian." Somewhat reluctantly, he hauled the dying girl to the tomb and laid her on the carpet beside it, "The Fang_…_Bring me...the Fang..."_

_She was getting weaker. Her sister cried as the priest retrieved the spear. The woman could not even pull herself up. She just weakly took the fang and slipped her ring off her finger, "I bequeath thou, Martha. Thou willst wear the ring now. Bury me not with my ancestors. The Ice Fang; bury in a secret place with my body." She gave a final spasm and then collapsed on her side, eyes closed,_

_"Jeanne! __**Jeanne!**__"_

* * *

_Harry was running silently through a green forest with smooth lawns covered with snow. He made no footprint. The moon was shining as bright as day above; streaking and dappling the glittering cold snow with its light shining through the leaves and branches. It was an almost fairytale-like place; where no evil would dare to come._

_He slowed down as he heard voices. There were bright yellow lights ahead. __**Fire**__, he thought. As he got closer, he saw they were torches, carried by random people within a large black crowd congregated around the doors of a handsome manor. There was silence except for a dark-haired woman nearest the door overcome with tears and sobbing openly. Harry briefly noted her Japanese outfit. The other women seemed to grieving too though they retained a little more control. The men had their heads bowed in respect. Harry seemed to glide straight through people like a ghost as he made his way to the front. Never did he pause to ponder why._

_The doors opened and two coffins were bore out of the house by people in black. The sobbing woman then lost all control and wailed like a dying bird. Two men rushed over to comfort her: one with short silver-blond hair that was sticking up everywhere and the other with long hair (Harry didn't know what the colour was but he could see dark and light streaks running through it) done up in a ponytail that came down his right shoulder and his fringe covering his left eye. Both tried fruitlessly to consol her. The man with the longer hair spoke in soft, Scottish tones, "Dunnae cry, lassie."_

_"My children…" the woman wept into her hands, "…my dear pretty ones…"_

* * *

"Harry! Harry! Wake!"

The vision of the funeral procession vanished abruptly. Harry was now lying on his bed with his eyes closed and someone shaking him. He felt very annoyed. He hadn't seen the names. Whose deaths had made so many people unhappy? Now, he may never know. He opened one eye and saw Baron was the one who was shaking him. A scowl appeared, "Baron, what d'you wake me up for?"

"Why, 'tis near seven of the clock."

"Is anyone else in our dormitory up?"

"No. But he who rises early shall always be ready…"

"Not me! _Good night_!"

Harry pulled the covers over his head and closed his eyes again. He wanted to get back to that dream. To find out whom those two people were. He could hear Baron's frustrated, "Fie, for shame!" and pulled the sheets right off Harry's bed. Harry curled up momentarily and then, giving up, moaned,

"_Alright_! I'm up." He could hear a small laugh coming from Baron.

Harry ignored him, although very annoyed and reached through the curtains for his glasses. Baron tapped him on the shoulder. Upon turning, the other held out his glasses,

Harry put them on and looked at Baron. He was wearing the exact same clothes as ever and looked wide awake. Scowling again, he said, "How come you're up so early? Don't spirits need sleep?"

"Well…yea but…" he paused and then, seemingly frustrated by Harry's puzzled expression, burst out, "..._very well_, if you must know, I'm one who cannot and will not sleep; an insomniac! Your inquisitive soul doth not bide well with me!"

Harry reeled back. He hadn't expected an outburst like that! "You okay? You've been a bit on the edge recently."

Baron swept a hand through his long hair. He looked older and weaker again. However, after a moment, Baron regained his dignified composure and said, "In your sleep, you did speak of strange things. Didst demons haunt you?"

"No. Just a weird dream."

"Tell on."

"Ah, there was this big manor and all these people standing outside wearing black. There was this veiled woman in front of the door…"

Baron sat up sharply, "Her face; didst you peruse her face?"

"I dunno. I didn't see her face but she did have dark hair. Really long."

Baron's expression was hard to read. It looked like he wanted Harry to continue but he wasn't in the least bit surprised. When he made no comment however, Harry continued, "She was sobbing. Then two coffins came out of the house. Then two men came. One looked…ah…disturbingly like Malfoy's dad with my hair all sticking up and untidy. The other one had long hair and his left eye was covered. Sounded Scottish, I think. I tried to get a look at the coffins to see who those two dead people were but then," he sighed,, making his annoyance apparent, "you woke me up."

Harry looked at Baron and got a surprise. His expression was uneasy. Almost…remorseful? Harry frowned suspiciously, "You know something about that dream, don't you?" Baron jerked his head away, bowing his head, "Baron?"

"This woman; she did weep?"

"Yeah, she did. Why?"

Baron fidgeted uncomfortably. He drew one of his legs up and rested his chin on his knee. He paused, looking out of the window before he gave Harry a sideways look and said, tonelessly, "That weeping maiden was my mother."

Harry gasped, "What?"

"Yes. Last night, I disposed to endeavor to picture the image of what events my death delivered. Some strange force or wraith; whether soul of health or demon damned, hath realised this and, thus, my interment you saw. That man, you tell, appeared akin to the father of Malfoy, was my father."

"And the other man? The one with the long hair?"

"Sabian. My councilor: councilor Sabian de Brunroux; bless his sweet heart. Born in France, hence the anomalous name. His parents, devoid of magic, knowing not that what wizard he was, were born England's and, loving of their family, to Edinburgh, they came, shortly after his birth. He, that kindly, wise man, twas more than a mere councilor. His title; one of a great friend of mine; one that is greater than mere 'councilor'. John always…" He suddenly stopped and bowed his head again. Harry leaned forward a little, feeling that he'd touched on important ground, and asked,

"Who's John?"

"Never mind who this John is. Who are you talking to, Harry?"

Both jumped as Ron's hand slotted between Harry's bed curtains. Baron vanished abruptly. Ron poked his head through and looked around. Harry held his breath; getting the feeling one would get when someone was looking for something you've hidden. _I __**am**__ hiding something_. Ron's looking for him, "Sounds like you've got company."

"No." Harry could only hope his voice didn't sound nervous,

"I'm certain I heard someone else here…"

"Nope. No one's here." Harry then added, "That's the first sign of madness, y'know: hearing voices."

Ron looked a bit taken aback by this comment, "I think you might be the one who's losing it, Harry. You're talking to yourself and making things up."

The comment stung Harry, making him very frustrated and angry. _Talking to myself? _Harry yelled, "Get out!" and threw his pillow at Ron's head; that withdrew instantly. It fell to the floor and Ron was heard to mutter in a jesting manner something like,

"Sorry if I insulted that imaginary friend of yours." Harry let his breath in a loud way to best convey his annoyance. Harry had just begun to get ready when Ron poked his head through again, "By the way, Harry, how come you're up so early?"

"Someone woke me up." Harry muttered, not meaning to,

"Huh?"

"Uh…never mind."

"Neville's snoring wasn't _that_ loud, was it?"

This comment earned him a pillow in the back of his head courtesy of Neville. Harry laughed as Ron overbalanced and fell on his bed. Still chuckling, Harry then shoved Ron out then pulled the curtains around his bed and pulled his clothes. Next, he pulled his Moon Medallion out from beneath his clothes and called, "Baron." No answer, "Baron!" Still no reply. Harry started to feel even more annoyed. If Ron hadn't intervened at the point, Harry might have got some more information out of Baron about that dream.

* * *

He got down to breakfast and was immediately greeted by some of the Slytherins doing Dementor impressions in his general direction. Malfoy surprisingly wasn't joining in but looking on with an expression on his face that looked somewhere between bored and amused. Rather like a king would look on jesters who'd performed this same trick dozens of times.

Harry received his timetable and found he had Divination first. Still no sign of Baron. Baron's voice eventually came into his head as they set off a bit earlier than they usually did, "You're a man wiser than I."

_Ah, Baron! Finally decided to come out. Anyway, you took Divination? What's it like?_

"Only investigated, I, 'til until such time I could shed. Ne'er an interest of setting the future in stone became me. That is not how't should be. Oh, do not that way turn." He added as the trio made a right turn.

Following Baron's guidance, the trio managed to reach North Tower and to a tiny landing. It was a complete dead end where some of the class were already assembled. Baron pointed above where a brass plaque was on a circular trap door on the ceiling, "Sybil Trelawney? About my brains, I have heard them profess their talents as Seers." Harry was still none the wiser on how they were to get up to the classroom.

"You shall soon see."

The trap door suddenly opened as if on Baron's command and a silvery step ladder descended nearly on Harry's foot but Baron pulled aside just in time. Harry ascended the ladder and, while Harry looked around incredulously, Baron too was looking round, making comments like, "Oh, what new object is this?" and, "That hast been here too long."

Harry then began wondering where the teacher was,

"She shall arrive when a man utters…"

"Where is she?" asked Ron.

"Welcome," a soft misty voice came from the shadows, "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

"What timing impeccable." Baron muttered. He took one look at her and burst out laughing. Harry was thankful no one could hear him for it was very loud and derisive, "O, hilarity! I do confess I have ne'er seen a more _ridiculous _looking woman!" Harry barely suppressed a chuckle at this. Everyone sat down. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down around the same table and the still sniggering Baron stood behind Harry to watch what she did next.

When she said, "You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Professor Trelawney (Baron had told Harry that it was her in a whisper between laughs) made predictions that Neville's grandmother would fall ill, that they would first study tea leaves, then palmistry, that Parvati should beware a red-haired man ("Red haired children are most often caution's subject."), would move to crystal balls and one of their number would leave them forever, "Well," Baron sighed, "what surprise ist! Ist tradition, it seems."

_What?_

"The first to give her ridicule will hath an exchange with a forecast of death."

There was a sound of breaking china as Neville dropped his teacup. Professor Trelawney had predicted it beforehand but Baron simply asked, "Hast the young master displayed such play of carelessness?"

_Yeah, he has._

"For one of the teachers, she must have heard it. Harry, do take your tea slow. Do not pause and shall burn your tongue. Or else, cast't over your shoulder."

"Right," Ron said, after they had drained their cups, "What can you see in mine?"

"A load of soggy brown stuff,"

Baron snorted with laughter ("What good spirit!") while Trelawney called for them to broaden their minds. Baron snorted again, this time with scorn, "'Broaden your minds!'" he mimicked, in a high, contemptuous voice. Harry ignored him and told Ron that, according to his teacup, he was going to suffer but be very happy. Ron then told Harry that there was an animal that looked rather like a sheep. Harry snorted with laughter which attracted Professor Trelawney's attention. She looked into Harry's teacup and swirled it anticlockwise, "The falcon…my dear, you have a deadly enemy."

"But everyone knows _that_." Both Baron and to Harry's surprise, Hermione said this. He and Baron looked around at her, "Well, they do." She said, dismissively, "Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."

"What ist that she speakest of?"

_Voldemort._

"Ah; the very name is feared."

Trelawney turned her gaze back to Harry's cup and gave it another turn, "The club…an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…"

Baron chuckled again and, sure enough, he muttered, "Well, any cup held by a giant insect is ne'er a happy one."

"The skull…danger in your path, my dear…"

"Yes, take care in your steps, Harry. For I see an offending splinter."

Trelawney, after giving the cup a final turn, gasped and then screamed.

_What do you reckon she saw?_

"A mirror?" Baron collapsed helplessly into laughter again. Harry restrained his laughter with difficulty and watched Trelawney as she sank into her armchair and said,

"My dear boy. My poor dear boy. No, it is kinder not to say. No, don't ask me!"

"O, spare us these tedious exaggerated theatrics." Baron sighed, "It is the strangest thing; I possess not the gift of foresight and yet I know exactly what comes."

"What is it, Professor?" Dean Thomas and everyone else had crowded around Harry and Ron's table to peer into Harry's cup. Lavender Brown walked straight through Baron. He moved so he stood in the table and he was only visible from the waist upwards. He too leaned over the cup with his hands on his hips. After a few moments squinting, he nodded and sighed,

"Yes. Most definitely. Hast you the Grim, Harry."

"My dear boy," gasped Trelawney, "you have the Grim!"

Baron sighed, "I thought it so."

"What's the Grim?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"The Grim, my dear! The Grim! The giant spectral dog that haunts churchyards!" cried Trelawney, dramatically.

"Ist an omen." Baron sighed skeptically as if he had heard this a hundred times.

"My dear, it is an omen!"  
"The worst omen…" Baron was now smirking with a little too much resemblance to Malfoy's smirk to be healthy.

"The worst omen!"

"Of death! What surprise!" Baron said sarcastically.

"Of…death!"

It had lost some of its drama in Harry's case thanks to Baron's mimicking and skepticism and Hermione then going around Trelawney's chair saying that she didn't think it looked very much like a Grim and Seamus saying it looked more like a donkey. They left the classroom early and Baron was shaking his head, "Prithee, Harry. Estimating fortune is a practice I do not love to look on. By my troth, it would trouble me not if my tea leaves spelt 'Death to Gabriel' or whether those words, from my ridiculing imagination, came, inclining me to think they came from a shining stone."

* * *

A/N: Okay, just bear with me with these edits. 


	5. A Visit to Remember

Power of the Moon

Chapter 5: A Visit to Remember

The next two months passed without much significant activity. Apart from the fact that, in their first Care of Magical Creatures lesson, the hippogriffs all shied away from Draco Malfoy as if terrified. No one had really pressed the issue and some had put it down to the Dementors in the forest. On the other hand, their Defence against the Dark Arts lessons had become more enjoyable and Baron agreed strongly ("The years hath taught them well!"). On the run-up to Halloween, there came news that there was going to be a Hogsmeade trip. Baron was thrilled,

"Most excellent fortune! Why, a thousand years must hath gone since I last beheld't. My dear village! I recall much…Harry? How now; what's the matter?" For Harry was looking as downright miserable as he felt. He didn't have his permission slip signed so he couldn't go. He hated to see Baron disappointed though. He really didn't want to say. Baron put his head to one side, "Harry? My dear Harry, what ho? Hast you taken ill?"

_No._ Harry thought that he might as well drop the bombshell, _I didn't get my permission slip signed. I have to stay behind. The only one who has to. _Baron's face fell but it looked more angry than disappointed,

"O, travesty! Most horrific fortune! Harry, Hogsmeade is not such to be…"

_Don't make me feel worse._ Harry rested his chin on the back of his hand, trying to block out the happy chatter about the Hogsmeade trip that was going on all around. He didn't see Baron's thoughtful expression and then his grin. Baron then put a hand on his shoulder and muttered,

"I hast a plan."

On Halloween, Ron and Hermione left for Hogsmeade, promising him that they would bring back sweets from Honeydukes. Harry said his farewells with a little less of the dejectedness than the day the news had first come out about the trip. After they had left and Harry had watched them out of the window, Baron whispered, "Go; fetch money."

_Why?_

"By and by, I explain."

After retrieving his moneybag from his trunk and returning to the Common Room, Baron stood up, "Follow." Still having no idea what Baron was planning, Harry followed Baron to the portrait hole. Baron paused and then, knocked on the back of the canvas once and sniggered as the Fat Lady squeaked in annoyance. Harry gave him a look that said plainly 'why did you do that',

"Old habits ne'er die."

Harry rolled his eyes but grinned all the same. Baron pushed open the portrait and Harry followed him out of the Common Room. They went down the stairs to the third floor and came to a stop in front of a statue of a one-eyed witch with a hump on her back. Harry frowned at the ugly statue, "Baron, why are we here?" But Harry's question was answered for him. After Baron pointed at it and muttered something, the witch's hump opened. He beckoned to Harry and gave him a leg up into the hole. Harry slid down what felt like a stone slide for a considerable time and landed on cold, damp earth. Baron slid down after him and came out behind him, landing a little more gracefully than him. He pushed Harry on through the low, narrow, earthy passage,

"In fourth year, I ordered this made; this honourable way hast use of escape and, more oft, warning. Owls simply weren't swift or steadfast enough. Fear of the worst was messengers intercepted, messages gone astray. Be constant!"

They had begun to climb some steps ascending upwards. There were a lot: a hundred, two hundred, he had lost count halfway up. Then, without warning…

"Ouch!"

"Ssh! Make no noise! Didst I not instruct constancy."

Harry's head had hit a wooden trap door. Baron squeezed past an annoyed Harry who was massaging the place where it had been hit by the door and then tried to push it open. Unfortunately, his arm went straight through and out of sight. Harry made a noise of shock and Baron cursed, "Archimedes, I forget! Harry," he retrieved his arm and turned to his host, "I must use your body."

"What d'you…?"

"I shalt don flesh and bone and you will cast off your body; become an invisible shade. Only I willst be aware. Your flesh shalt be my flesh, appearance cap-a-pe but fear not! It will only be so when I possess it. Do you understand?"

"O…kay…" Harry said slowly, still trying to take this in, "Will I feel anything?"

"I have answer not, Harry. We shalt discover presently. Are you most ready?"

"Ah…I think so."

Baron chuckled, "Fear not, Harry. On other note, think this a positive boon. In this solution, there ist an impenetrable disguise. If any teachers should cross our path and they pass you, ne'er shall they know!"

Harry thought about McGonagall knowing he wasn't supposed to be there and then nodded, "Do it."

"Good man." Harry suddenly felt a very strange yet surprisingly pleasant sensation. It felt rather like he had been carrying something very heavy within his very being had been removed from him. Harry looked up. In front of him was a very solid looking Baron wearing a grin, "What, ho, Harry? How does your being?"

"Great." Harry said, earnestly.

"I am most inclined to think that I have forgotten the feel of flesh and bone. I feel heavy." He then clapped his hands and said, "Well, let us be away."

Baron strode up to the trapdoor. His shoes made a tapping noise on the stone. It was only then did Harry realise Baron's footsteps had never made a sound when he was a spirit. Baron pushed it up and away from sight. He then pulled himself up from the hole and did the same with Harry. Baron looked around and then replaced the trap door.

He beckoned Harry to follow him. They wove their way around the maze of boxes and crates. Harry went straight through them to make it easier for him to follow Baron. They came to the wooden steps that led up to the shop. Baron sneaked around the counter while Harry walked straight through it. Baron noticed Harry was smirking in a way that looked like he was trying to stop himself laughing. _What amusement do you find in this?_

"I was just imagining what my cousin would say if he saw this."

Baron smiled mildly then had a look around. He wrinkled his nose at the sight of the 'Unusual Tastes' section, _I foolishly tasted one of those dreaded blood flavours?_

"What did it taste like?"

_Absolutely foul! Why must they make them trade?_

Harry chortled and Baron bought them sweets that he and Harry were interested in trying. He passed some to Harry who was a bit doubtful, "Can I, y'know…eat when I'm a spirit?"

_Of course! You hast no need but you may._

Harry found that Baron attracted a lot of curious looks from the students. He mentioned this and Baron simply told Harry to ignore them. Percy even approached him as he was about to leave, "Excuse me but are you from the village? Only I've never seen you before."

Baron replied with a dark, silencing look. He strode out, his white cloak blowing in the steadily increasing wind. Baron then strode down the high street, smiling mildly at the Three Broomsticks, _Despite my banishment, there was ne'er a time when welcome did not greet me. The landlord oft reward mine efforts with drinks of no cost._

After striding past the pub, they passed Dervish and Bangs and found someone walking out, "Snape." Harry muttered, warningly. Baron and Snape passed one another; both were looking at one another with calculating expressions. Harry noticed Snape was wearing his hair in a different style. His hair was no longer parted from his face in curtains; it was now covering the left side of his face. This reminded him of someone but he couldn't remember who.

It only happened in a moment but Baron was a little unsettled by it. He was sure that the teacher's visible eye had flicked momentarily to the spot where Harry was walking. _But Harry cannot be seen, surely. _Baron thought. _Hmm, well, a secretive disposition doth fly about him. Wilt I look upon him later, double secrecy that I see shalt be there. _Harry also noticed a trickle of blood between the strands of Snape's hair, as though something was bleeding on his face beneath it. Baron inhaled as they passed the entrance to Dervish and Bangs. The faint smell of water lilies could be detected and…singing? Indeed, a snatch of song echoed from within the shop, so quick and quiet, that an inattentive person would have missed it,

"_...but now...am found...was blind...but now...I see..._"

Baron led Harry up a hill overlooking the village. They came through a clump of trees and came to a wrecked old manor house. The doors and the windows were boarded up with rotten planks; there were hardly any tiles on the roof and the paint was peeling off the walls. Baron stopped dead when he saw it and actually stepped back, his hand to his mouth, "Baron?" Harry frowned, "You alright?" Baron suddenly went from shocked to angry. He stamped his foot and cried,

"_What fiend or devil dares deface the noble house of the Barons? WHO?_" He pointed the last word at Harry. Harry raised his hands in defence and said, feeling rather flustered,

"Don't blame me! I didn't wreck this place. This is the Shrieking Shack now. They say it was made this way by violent spirits. Hermione told me that it was the most haunted building in Britain."

Baron calmed down a little and looked up at the house again. He suddenly looked mournful. Harry looked at the shack too,

"This was your home?"

"Mine, 'fore my exile. My heart wept so when I was curs'd to leave. Ne'er was there a better place. Most wonderful in the summer. An orchard graced us with yearly fruits..." He broke off and looked at Harry, "Instead of lending your polite ear to my inane rambling, wilt you see rather than hear? Into my memories you shall come and look upon't in glory."

"Err…okay."

"Close your eyes and you shalt see the Manor in brilliance."

Harry did so and he could feel Baron put an arm around his shoulders and grip tightly. He then felt a strong wind blow about him. It blew his hair from his face and he could feel Baron's cloak brush against him. They were lifted from the ground. Harry did not dare open his eyes fearing what he might see. After a moment of wind blowing about him, his feet touched ground again. Harry opened his eyes and stared.

It was bright day, instead of the grey autumn they had left behind. They were standing in front of a clump of trees and overlooking a bright flower garden in front of a magnificent manor. Even though the house was a wonder, it was still recognisable as the Shrieking Shack. The windows were in all the right places and the distance between the house and the gate was the same. Harry stared around his surroundings in awe. Baron's voice came from the side, "O, amazing place. I ne'er remembered half of its greatness."

And Harry could in no way disagree. Just then, the shiny patterned doors opened and three people came out. Two boys about three or four years below Harry's age came running and racing each other and the other was a tanned man in his late twenties to whom Harry looked familiar. He had sleek black and streaked hair done up in a ponytail coming down his right shoulder. He created a very Scottish appearance, complete with blue kilt and a white cloak draped over one shoulder, held in place by a large silver clasp.

The boys were what really drew Harry's attention and interest. The tallest (though only by a little way) had disheveled black hair playing around his shoulders, forest green eyes like Baron's, wore a pair of oval glasses and a red frock coat, "My early self." Muttered Baron. The other boy looked rather remarkably like a younger version of Malfoy with his white blond hair and blue eyes. These eyes were very large and shining. He wore a sky blue waistcoat and had his hair done up in a small ponytail. The boys began chasing one another around the gardens and seeing who could jump over the highest hedge. They laughed as they gamboled about the grass like little children,

"O'er I leap, brother! I leap to the heavens!?"

"I shall touch the stars and soar higher than thou!"

"Yea? Then, my lord brother Gabriel, thou shalt have no quarrels with o'erleaping the walls."

"I go, John!"

"What, ho, laddies!" the kilted man came over, delivering the Scottish tones in his voice that he expected, "Stand on the earth; thou burrow. You'll be punish'd if you try o'erleaping walls. John, you'll have your father much angered."

The boy called John scowled so he looked more like Malfoy than ever, "There's ne'er a time when my father is not angered. No difference can I see."

"Yea, good Sabian," the younger Baron stood up and looked grave, "Father's unfairness hast affected me as well. I cleft a vase and father doth have him punished. Ne'er he did something wrong when Father punish'd him hereafter. Conversely, when wrong is my doing, I doth not be punish'd so gravely, talking of goading. Though she ne'er says it, Esther experiences the same."

"Sabe, why dost he do this?" John's eyes were teary now, "Am I not lov'd or…?"

"Gabriel! John!" a man who looked a lot like Lucius Malfoy with disheveled hair appeared at the door, "Come!"

"We come, father!" the boys called back in unison. They got to their feet and hurried over to the door. They ran past a little girl of about ten with brown hair and a golden dress. Harry couldn't see much of her because she was standing in the door's shadow but he could pick out a lock of hair on each side of her face curled into cylinders and ending in a thin little twist. The Scottish man also followed in and spoke to the blond man as they followed the boys, leading the little girl who had a firm hold of his hand. Baron squeezed Harry's shoulder and they were flying up through swirling colour and a familiar blowing wind. Just before they were whisked back to the present, Harry could hear the little girl look up at the blond man and said one word, "Papa..."

When it cleared, they were in front of the crumbling house again. Harry turned to Baron,

"Who's John? Is he your brother?"

"Yea, my younger. Your astute senses serve you well."

"Why was your father unfair to him? Did you ever find out?"

"Ah, questions, questions!" Baron waved his hand, airily, "Such salad days are dead and gone. Do not forever seek answers in the dust. Look to lady present and you shall be rewarded."

As Baron led Harry away, Harry got the nagging sensation that the spirit was deliberately hiding something from him...Baron took Harry on a guided tour all around the village, telling him stories that connected to them that made it seem ten times more interesting even the secluded places where students rarely ventured like to the top of the mountains to a cave where he had found Dark Sorcerers hiding. By the time that they had to go, Harry had forgotten all about John and the little girl he hadn't asked about.

When they got back to Hogwarts, Harry found Ron and Hermione at the Halloween feast and they had brought back a horde of sweets from Hogsmeade; some of them Harry had already tried. They began describing Hogsmeade to Harry. Harry tuned out to it because he knew all of this already. He pricked up his ears however when Hermione said, "We saw a really strange man a few times in Hogsmeade. He didn't talk to anyone. Well, Percy asked his name in Honeydukes because he had never seen him."

"Neither have I." Ron added,

"What did this man look like?" Harry wanted to see how they had reacted to Baron,

"Well…Harry, you're not going to believe this…he looked a bit like an older version of you. Told you that you wouldn't believe me." Harry really didn't believe her there. He sat there with his mouth open. Baron muttered in his ear that she had a point. Hermione continued, "He was a bit older though. Had to be at least twenty. He had long black hair and green eyes. But his were a darker shade than yours."

Ron took up the description from Hermione, "He wore glasses rather like Percy's. Y'know, horn-rimmed but silver ones. He wore a red school shirt and a white cloak with a corner curled around his arm. He was really tanned too. His skin was almost brown."

"I think it looked more golden in a way." Parvati Patil and her friend Lavender sat down opposite them. Lavender rolled her eyes,

"Are you talking about that guy again?"

"Aw, c'mon, Lavender. He was gorgeous. You have to admit it."

"Yeah!" the both of them giggled. Baron looked rather flattered and smiled mildly at them.

"You thought he was gorgeous?" Hermione asked but it wasn't like she disagreed.

"Yeah, of course. Parvati and I wanted to chat him up but we couldn't pluck up the courage. I would have settled with his name at least. I could write to him."

Harry sincerely doubted that Baron would answer any letters that were suggesting they wanted to date him,

"I dunno," Hermione looked doubtful, "he's not very talkative and he went everywhere alone. He avoided everyone in the Three Broomsticks. You remember we asked him to sit with us, Ron?"

"Yeah. He just said 'no' when we asked him. And those eyes. They were so weird. All cold and...empty. Like they...were frozen. Like he wasn't even alive. It was really spooky the way he stared." Ron concluded.

A laugh then burst out of Harry. They all looked at him. Harry quickly controlled himself and went a bit red in the face. He hadn't meant to laugh. It was just the fact that Ron found him scary that sounded really ridiculous. Hermione glared at him, "Do you know him, Harry?"

"Ah…" Harry's mind went blank because he was so flustered. In desperation, he glanced at his watch, "…um…oh, wow, is that the time? Nearly time for bed, I think. Ah ha ha…" Harry was bright red now and he knew it. He quickly stood up and almost ran out of the Great Hall doors. Baron appeared running beside him,

"O, what swift thoughts you have!" He muttered sarcastically. Harry shook his head, feeling a little annoyed.

He hurried up the Common Room and slowed down as he was going up the corridor that led to the one where the Fat Lady was. Since his footsteps weren't making a noise anymore, he heard a faint noise of ripping. He slowed to a stop and listened carefully. _Yes, it is ripping._ All of a sudden, after a moment, he heard a sinister laugh, "Now, if this doesn't lure the Baron out of hiding, nothing will." The sinister laughter sounded again followed by hurried footsteps fading as if the person was leaving. Baron was shaking with rage,

"Harry, come! What hast the villain done."

"Don't push me!"

Baron pushed Harry forward around the corner to the Fat Lady's corridor. Only, the Fat Lady was gone and her canvas was torn, slashed and in tatters. Baron gasped in shock and then shook with anger again. He murmured to himself, "So, you hast begun't."


	6. An Old Dispute

A/N: (12/10/07) Even more updates! Altered the spells and made Baron more Shakespearian.

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 6: An Old Dispute

_Baron, you have completely lost me now. Who are you on about? What's begun again?_

"Come, Harry. Linger not! A villain is present."

_Who?_

"Come, we must away."

Harry, still clueless and wondering what on earth Baron meant by him saying he had a good idea who it was, was pulled by the back of the neck past the Fat Lady and down another corridor. And then another. In the third corridor they hurried down, they came across the back of a white blond head. Malfoy; he was sauntering, almost swaggering, down the corridor. In his hand…_oh, no way! _Harry thought…was a long stone knife that was coated with dried blood. Even without that, it still looked cruel. The blade was made of stone not metal and the hilt was made out of pure obsidian.

Then, Harry saw it, painstakingly carved on the wall, scorched into stone. The words:

_Shibo ad bokenes._

Harry had no idea what these words meant but the very way they were written seemed evil. Baron glared at the writing, "Most pernicious villain." he muttered,

"What is it?" Harry frowned, trying to make sense of the writing,

"A dictum of the enemy I spoke. The words are '_Death to the tyrants._' Such a hate had he yet never constant, a new saying to the beginning wouldst come; with time as the minister of change. Show the Moon Medallion, Harry." He suddenly ordered, after a hard look at Malfoy's back, "Now!" Harry did so while thinking,

_Baron, just what is going on here? Do you think it was Malfoy who slashed the Fat Lady? That sort of behaviour isn't like Malfoy one bit. I mean, he hates Gryffindors but slashing the portrait is just one step too far. Even he has his limits…_

Baron held up a hand to silence him. He was silent for a moment and then,

"How now!" Harry stared at him. Surely that was pointless. Baron was a spirit. However, to Harry's great surprise, Malfoy stopped and, still with his back to them, gave a sinister chuckle. He began to turn, talking to them as he did so,

He was giving him a smirk. Not unusual. But this smirk was different and it was one Harry did not like one bit. His eyes flared so brightly red that his eyes now looked like gateways to the fires of hell. They flicked to Harry's Moon Medallion, "Ah, you are Baron's host, are you? Well, in that case, there's a little something I'd like to share with you both."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. _How did he know Baron? Was it him who slashed the Fat Lady? Did he hear Baron a moment ago?_

"Malfoy, what are you…?"

"Malfoy?" He chuckled, "On the outside I may be but on the inside…"

He had now turned around completely and was facing Harry. Malfoy's smirk grew wider. He said the next five words in barely a whisper and in a completely different voice, "…I am someone else altogether." This voice was more sinister and evil-sounding. It was the same voice he had heard a moment ago. Harry narrowed his eyes, not before a silver, dream catcher-like pendant with the telltale thin moon to tell him it was a Moon item appeared around Malfoy's neck,

"If you're not Malfoy, then who are you?"

"Harry, we must switch states at once…" Harry felt that weights had been lifted off his shoulders before he could ask why. He looked to his side and saw a fully solid Baron standing beside him. This time, he was holding a long polished wooden staff with six silver wings set into the top. They were set in three pairs. The bottom pair were reclining slightly, relaxed. The second pair up were spread, like a bird's wings are when they are ready to fly. The third and top pair were stretched higher still.

Malfoy then began to change: he grew a foot or two so he was now just a head shorter than Baron. His skin was blackening before their eyes (Harry stared in shock), his eyes remained red but they became manic and reminded Harry very strongly of Voldemort. His hair grew out of control (Harry grimaced at the sight that they looked like the tips were dipped in blood), his clothes changed into a sky blue surcoat and a tattered violet cloak. His face was visible for a split second and then it was covered by a helmet. The rest of his body met the same sort of fate, concealed under armour.

The thing that stood before them bore no trace of Malfoy. It wasn't human. It was something else. A mockery of life. Baron spoke, "Nekros."

"I'm pleased you remember me after all these years, my Baron. I'm surprised you took so long in finding me. Two months since I found my Chosen One and my disguise worked perfectly. Not even your eyes could sense me."

"Where is he?" demanded Baron, "Tell me, fiend, what hath become of Draco?"

"Draco is no longer here. He is gone; his soul trapped within the impregnable confines of the Moon Ring. Wretched, pathetic thing now. Weak, broken, out of reach."

Baron glared, "Your contempt for blameless sickens me. Know anyone of this?"

"No. No one knows. Even though that Potions Master has certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me all through the Halloween feast." He seemed to be talking more to himself than Baron, "But then he is a mere mortal. He could not possibly know. Anyway," he turned back to Baron, "I suppose you wish for battle?"

Vehemence dripped from Baron's voice, "I charge you with a wager that this fray shall balance. If I prevail, hence from Draco and deliver. Hold you to this?"

"Fine, I agree to your terms. Believe me, Baron, I'm a man of my word." Harry did not believe him for a second. _Nekros is planning something_, "but let's not forget your half of the bargain. If I win, then I keep Draco's soul and I take yours, Baron, to join him. You will be mine to own." Harry couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. _If Baron lost the duel, then Baron lost his soul_.

_But he defeated Nekros last time_. he thought. _He could do it again. _Baron nodded once, "I accept." He then held his staff out in front of him like a sword,

"I'm ready." murmured Nekros before stretching out his arm and calling in a louder voice, "_Yami, circumda oretachi_!" Darkness began to swallow their surrounds, all the way down to the floor but stopped there. As if they were encased in a black, opaque dome. A black fog appeared around their feet, going up to their ankles. A fog so dense that if you were to put your hand within it, you would not even see an outline. Like the fog had swallowed it. That's what Baron and Harry must have felt about their feet.

Baron went first. The top wings shot a golden beam of light at Nekros which was deflected with a flick of his hand. Nekros then raised his right arm and, from beneath it, rose from the mist, a pearly white, semi-transparent mist rose from the blackness. Nekros was chanting something Harry couldn't understand but could hear perfectly well: "_Procede, kara no tamashii. Procede, kara no tamashii._" He seemed to be coaxing the apparition into forming. It was forming from a shapeless mist into a figure. It was the ghostly, colourless figure of a slim woman with glowing amber eyes and long flowing hair. Her legs were not visible. They conjoined and became just a small pillar of mist coming from the blackness below. Harry took a step backwards, "Ah…Baron…what is that?"

"A soul drained. No memory remain to keep from slavery. Once a living person with temple of flesh; now imprisoned wretched soul." He sighed and shook his head, "That being that mocks life itself."

"Can't you stop it?"

"No! It lives; to destroy would be murder!"

Before Harry could question Baron's morality, Nekros then shouted, "_Kogeki suru!_" The soul's mouth opened and it let out a terrible, inhuman shriek. In fact, it sounded more like bird-like than human. It then burst forward and, before Baron could stop it, it struck him straight in the chest. There was a blinding flash of light as it struck him and a loud _**CRASH**_

Harry tried desperately to see through the pall of white smoke, "Baron!" He called, coughing as he did so, "_Baron_!" Harry waved his hands to try and clear the smoke. When it cleared, it sank into the blackness. Baron was clutching his chest where the spirit had struck and had his eyes screwed tight shut. His body was shaking. Harry realised Baron's body was of a rather thin, fragile-looking physique, "Baron?" he called, tentatively, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Baron said in a strained voice, opening one eye and glared at a smirking Nekros, "but our simplicity of defeat hath increased." _Wow_, thought Harry, _and that was just Nekros's opening move. Who knows what tricks he's going to pull next?_ Harry was starting to see why Nekros was feared in Hogsmeade. It was just the start of the fight and he was already starting to lose hope.

Baron was feeling the same sort of thing. _Another attack from the empty souls and I am done. I've never seen this strategy. It is the end of the fight when the empty souls do appear. What is he planning? My only opportunity is to make an effective attack soon. _He raised his staff just as the last of the white mist cleared and shot gold lightning at Nekros. He was sent flying backwards and he smashed into the wall of darkness. He fell down into the mist again and lay there, seething with anger for a few moments.

He then rose out of the mist like some monster coming out of the shadows of night. He shot a black fireball at Baron which he dodged. It looked like Baron had recovered and was on the way to victory. He hit Nekros twice with the golden lightning. Harry's confidence in Baron was building. _He's going to win! I knew it._

His opponent seemed to realise it. He seemed to be sinking into the darkness and out of sight. Baron frowned. _Was he giving up? Did he have something else up his sleeve? _There was a long, eerie silence. Harry began to feel Nekros had given up. He was walking over to Baron and helping him up after Nekros's last hit had nearly destabilised him. Just as he was however, they heard a strange rumbling in the ground beneath them like an earthquake, unnerving the both of them. The two of them backed away a few steps and…

Nekros shot from the darkness and, with a flaming ball of darkness in hand, struck Baron straight in the chest. There was a blinding flash of red light and Harry was knocked backwards. Stars winked in from of his eyes for a moment until he shook his head and put up an arm to his eyes to shield them from the fiery glare, "BARON!" Harry called through the light. The light faded and Baron was lying on the floor, unconscious but just coming round. Nekros was standing above him looking triumphant,

"Looks like I win this fight and you know what that means; don't you, Baron?"

Baron remained silent but he knew full well what was going to happen, "Yes, Baron, you lose your soul and Draco's stays imprisoned. _I now own you. _At least he'll have some company now. I'd hate him to be lonely within my prison." He held out his hand. Harry suddenly felt a burst of courage and that he had to save his friend as a black tornado encircled around Baron, blocking him from view. _Not if I can help it!_

Harry rushed into the back of the tornado, into the swirling shadows. The winds were very strong and Harry found it hard to keep his feet on the ground, let alone move forward. Acrid tasting smoke blew into his mouth and he choked. It was like trying to move through a burning house. The smoke seemed to fill his brain and he felt faint and dizzy. _I have to get through and save Baron. _His numbing mind came up with this message as he pushed his way through the tornado. This thought fuelled him with determination and he broke through the black wall. He gulped in fresher air then in the shadows.

Harry's mind still felt clogged but he still saw Baron standing as if ready to accept his fate. Harry rushed over to him and pulled him out and through the wall. He could see the other's shocked expression as he was thrown away. He heard Baron's voice calling, "Harry! Have you no wits?"

"He only needs one of us." Harry called back. He could feel a pull as if a person had grabbed him by the back of his robes, "I'm letting Nekros take me instead of you!" The pull was getting stronger. Harry felt tears burn as he felt a great pain in his heart. His heart fell like it was being pulled in half. He guessed why; he and Baron were being forced apart,

"Harry! Hence, mortal, I charge you! Let me endure...!" Baron's voice was becoming fainter. Harry cried out his last message to Baron,

"You're a spirit. You have more chance of rescuing Malfoy than me. You're no use to any of use when you're captured."

The pull was sucking him backwards and he could faintly hear Baron's shout, "NO! HARRY!" Harry's back then hit a cold stone surface and he knew no more.

* * *

Baron felt the same pain in his heart as Harry as the two of them were wrenched apart so brutally. He tried to reach into the tornado to pull Harry back but it was no good. When he tried to touch it, it acted like a force field and would not let him. There was then a bright glare of red light like a flare and Baron knew Harry was gone. When it had cleared, he found that the darkness had too and he was regaining some of the feeling in his feet. He registered dimly that it was getting late. The sun had nearly set and the light coming from the windows was a blood red. It was now the normal corridor he had first entered and where Nekros had been standing now lay Draco, motionless. The Moon Ring had vanished. Nekros had gone. Draco was now an empty vessel.

Baron felt like his heart had been split in two and one half had been cast from his chest. Yet it was still inside him, beating normally. That half that he'd lost had been Harry. Nekros had stolen him. Nekros had stolen his only friend in this time. He glanced down at Draco and then did a double take. _It cannot be…so alike John is he…no, he is dead and gone._ A voice in his head scolded him. Then, it added: _John is dead and gone by your undertaking. One error lost him, as did it lose Harry. You committed the crime of failure and Harry is your sentence._

_To fail is a crime, _Baron thought, blankly,_ I am forever punishéd_. Tears burned in his eyes at the memories of John, dead on the ground; because of him…He cried out both mentally and physically in anguish and agony. _As I should have gone! Shalt a safe mistake follow me without pain? Or shalt fate doom me? _He fell to his knees, the tears were now escaping. He flung his fists down onto the floor in frustration, "O, damned God! O, spiteful fate! What demon do you plague me? Why do you torment me? Why…?"

He could not go on. He didn't complain that it wasn't fair. Life was not fair and death obviously wasn't either. He had learned that a long time ago. It might have been an hour. It might have been a day. It might have been a week full of darkness that Baron had knelt there, crying silently. He would not have noticed. What he did notice though was the sound of a man's voice behind him, "With all due respect, this isn't a posture that befits you, Sir."

He looked over his shoulder in one swift movement. Snape was standing a few feet away from him; his eyes flicking from Baron to the empty Draco. He scowled at the man through tears staining his glasses. _He that scorn'd Harry shalt scorn me!_ "Leave me." He said coldly. He wasn't in the mood for any of this, "What would you know of my woes?" But the man did not leave him. He put his head to one side, as if examining him. A moment later, as if finding what he wanted, he straightened his neck and replied smoothly,

"More than you'd expect."

Baron wiped his face self consciously with the heel of his hand and got to his feet. He approached Snape and looked straight into his face. He was as tall as him so it was no problem._ Powerful energies doth surround him What be they? Alas, my judgment is clouded. What doth he hide_? "Hence; what man are you that finds my suffering significant?"

"I am someone who wants this Nekros defeated just as much as you do, Sir."

The shock of this statement rendered Baron completely speechless. _What knowledge does he possess? _The teacher took Baron's silence to his advantage, "Now, we mustn't stand here suspecting one another, God knows what Nekros is up to right now but I expect him to be furious he didn't manage to get hold of you. He will most certainly take it out on your friend Potter, Sir. Don't worry about the message; I will erase it. Now, if I may make a suggestion, you should ask for help from Potter's friends. Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger would be happy to help you. They are no Sorcerers but they will want to save Potter. The teachers have sent all the students to the Great Hall for their own safety. They think it was Sirius Black who slashed the Fat Lady and…" he looked behind him to check no one was listening in and, then, beckoned him closer. Baron leaned forward and Snape, with a small smile, whispered, "…it would be wise if we just let them keep thinking that. You agree, Sir?"

Baron nodded approvingly, wondering why Snape was talking to him with such respect. Dropping these thoughts for a moment, he said, "I should hence from here. As you said, we have not a waste moment." He turned and hurried down the corridor. He then realised something. He turned to the teacher, "What of Draco?" he pointed to the third year on the floor,

"I'll say I found him in the corridor unconscious, Sir. I'll take him to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey he needs to be left alone. He'll be there when you've got his soul." Baron turned again and ran downstairs. The corridors were deserted apart from the portrait, all whispering and worried. He decided to stop at the boys' bathroom to wash his face. He cupped the water in his hands and splashed his face with it, rubbing to make sure he got rid of the tear stains.

He gazed at his reflection in the mirror. A young man with pink eyes looked back. Himself. After overcoming the strong urge to destroy the image with his fist, he dried himself with one of the towels. He then made to go down to the Great Hall.

* * *

A/N: A/N **Translations: _Shibo ad bokenes: _**Death to the tyrants. 

**_Kogeki suru!: _**Attack!

**_Procedete, kara no tamashii:_** Come, empty soul.

**_Yami_,_ circumda oretachi: _**Shadows, surround us.

Sorcerer's spells are a mixture between Japanese and Latin. See if you can spot the difference!

So, why d'you reckon Snape's calling Baron 'Sir'?


	7. Allies

A/N: (12/10/06): Egads, more altered talk!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 7: Allies

Hermione was lying on her stomach in her purple sleeping bag with her chin resting on her clenched fist. _Where is Harry? _She hadn't seen him since the Halloween feast. _Why had he run away when they asked him if he knew that mysterious man in Hogsmeade? Was it perhaps something to do with Sirius Black attacking the Fat Lady? _Hermione then had a thought that chilled her spine and made her stiffen.

_Was that man really Sirius Black in disguise? Had he enchanted Harry to make him a spy? Was Harry really Harry at all but someone working for Black? _No, she was being stupid. _You're just overreacting to the attack on the Fat Lady._ Percy walked over to her and knelt down. Hermione had asked him if he could get the teachers to search for Harry and she sat up a little straighter, a small glimmer of hope lighting in her eyes. However, she saw by the look on his face and the hope went out like a blown light bulb,

"Any luck, Percy?"

Percy sighed. He looked like he had just seen someone die. That brought a whole new dread into Hermione's heart, "Hermione, I'd hate to tell you this but…there's no sign of him. Anywhere in the castle. We've searched the Gryffindor Common Room, all the dormitories and we've even sent Professor Sprout to look in the grounds and in Hogsmeade but I can't see that it's very hopeful. There's no clue or trace of Harry anywhere. It's like he's completely vanished off the face of the earth."

Hermione gulped as she voiced her dread, "You don't think Sirius Black…got him after slashing the Fat Lady, do you?"

"It's possible that he might have kidnapped him. Did he leave the feast early?"

"Yeah, he did." Hermione lowered her head. _What if... Black __**had **__managed to get his hands on Harry and…_

"He's not dead, Percy." Ron said, stubbornly, "He's just not!"

"He can't be dead!" piped up Ginny.

"Yeah, Percy." Fred came and joined them, "Stop being so depressing."

George spoke up, "Don't make her think the worst. Harry'll be fine, Hermione." Still, once the fear had come, it was very hard to banish,

"Hang on," Fred was peering over Percy at a group of third year Slytherins. They looked round at them and saw that they were talking in hushed voices and looked just as agitated as the Weasleys and Hermione, "What are that lot talking about?"

"I can't see Malfoy there." George peered around the hall,

"Professor Snape found him unconscious on the seventh floor. He's up in the hospital wing right now. Madam Pomfrey said that it must have either been a very strong Stunning spell or that he took a very bad blow to the head. Whichever reason, he can't be revived in any way."

"Hey, wouldn't it be great if Black mistook Malfoy for Harry and finished him off?" Fred grinned.

Percy straightened up so he towered over the group, "Frederick Gideon Weasley! This is a time of disaster and it is no place for your silly little jokes! If you're going to be so offhand about Black, I'll write to Mum!" He then strode off in a huff. Fred stuck his tongue out at Percy's back as Hermione giggled,

"Your middle name is Gideon?"

"It was my uncle's name." Fred flushed with embarrassment.

The whole hall suddenly went quiet and there was a sort of wave as heads turned to the door. Percy stopped walking around too. There were footsteps approaching. Rushed, almost running. Was it Dumbledore, come with news about Black, Malfoy or, with any luck, Harry? The double doors opened and…it wasn't Dumbledore. It wasn't even a teacher.

It was the white-cloaked, dark-haired young man they had seen earlier. There were whispers all around the hall, mostly asking each other if they knew him. Lavender and Parvati were whispering excitedly. Parvati was anxiously checking her hair in a mirror but she needn't have bothered. The man ignored them. He looked intently around the room for a moment, seeming to take in every face there. Then, he began to walk purposefully across the hall. Past the giggling girls. Past the suspicious Slytherins. Past the glowering ghosts.

It was only until he was halfway up the hall did Hermione realised his eyes were fixed on her. He turned, making his way through the undergrowth of sleeping bags, now intently looking at them. The Weasleys had noticed now. Ginny gazed at him. She had told no one but, ever since she set eyes on the man, she felt a strong sense of deja vu. When he came close, the feeling was comparable to seeing an old boyfriend after many years...

He halted about a yard away from them and spoke in a deep, dark and almost godly voice that carried over the buzzing whispers, "Ronald Weasley. Hermione Granger. A word with both of you."

Hermione froze at the mention of her name and Ron muttered, "How does he know our names?" He pulled her up to her feet. She flushed as heads turned in their direction and Ron's ears turned bright red like tomato slices. The man's dark green eyes were penetrating; as trying to see through her. Hermione felt like she was on stage and she might as well have been; so many eyes were on her.

The man raised one hand and beckoned to them once. He did this while maintaining a very void-like silence. Ron poked Hermione forward as the man retraced his steps towards the doors. They wove their way through the maze of sleeping bags and people staring at them, the man leading the way. It was only then did she realise how tall he was. It even felt a little startling.

The man finally turned back to look at them when he was in the doorway. At this closer view of the man, his face was still frighteningly impassive and empty of emotion. Nevertheless, Hermione thought the whites of his eyes looked rather pink at the corners of his eyes. Almost like he had been crying. He also looked rather thinner than a healthy standard, "Important matters must be, between us, parley'd." He then spoke to the silent Great Hall, "We will hence from here until dawn. Good night." Inclining his head politely, he turned to leave.

Percy looked like he was about to make an objection but an ice cold look from the man was enough to stop him dead in his tracks and actually back away a few steps, scared. Hermione too felt a little scared of the man now as he strode out with his left arm around her and his right around Ron. _What on earth was he planning? _Now she felt that a better fate would be to back away like Percy.

As they exited, the man jerked his hands forward and they heard the doors clang shut behind them. He led them over to an empty classroom and sat down on one of the desks. He gestured them to sit down and they quickly did so. The man looked at them steadily for a moment and then said, "I shall say but this: a fiend has stolen your friend, Harry."

Hermione gasped. Her fears had been realised! Ron stood up, "What's happened to him? Can we do anything?"

"Was it Sirius Black?" put in Hermione.

"Sirius Black?" the man pulled a face that looked like he thought the idea was ludicrous, "No, no, no! By different criminal, twas done. I and your educator doth know."

"A different criminal?" Ron sat down with shock.

"Who was the teacher?"

"Professor Snape…"

"_Snape_?" Ron stared, "How come he knows about all this?"

"Wherefore he received the knowledge; I know not. I do not seek to know. Harry's quandary is my current trouble."

"Okay, I've heard enough." Ron stood up again, "Who are you? Why are you worried about Harry? You _are_ a friend of his, aren't you?"

Baron nodded, "I shalt overlook your rude interruption..."

Ron glared, still untrusting. He sounded a little too like Mr Malfoy and Snape to be worthy of his trust, "You_ are _his friend, aren't you? Well, Harry _certainly_ wanted to keep it quiet. Who exactly are you?"

The man swept some of his hair over his shoulders, "Harry preferest to call me Baron. More sense can be made if the truth were to explain..."

* * *

"So let me get this straight." Ron said. Baron was explaining what had happened, "You're a spirit that's lived in an antique pendant for two centuries and you're…kinda…merged with Harry so you follow him around everywhere?"

"And there was another spirit." Hermione added, "An evil one that pretended to be Malfoy and he was the one who slashed the Fat Lady?"

"Tis Nekros. A villain of unspeakable cruelty. Mine enemy…tis strange to hear it…when I lived. Yea, he masqueraded as Draco, for twice month, under the best possible and least traceable guise. Plans were built upon Draco's present imprisonment in the Ring."

"So Malfoy was Nekros all along?"

"Yea. I fought him twice hour ago; a wager hanging o'er the outcome. If not, I am bound with the boy. I shall make long short: victory was Nekros. But, with valiant soul, Harry did replace. Ah…" he closed his eyes as he remembered, "…pain beyond flesh experience. We were cleft in twain and cast asunder. Nekros has him now."

"Where's Nekros now?"

"That; I know not. He left Draco's flesh and no kindly path to lead me." He lowered his head as he realised. Hermione looked like she was thinking hard and Ron looked absolutely devastated. Baron wistfully raised the Moon Medallion up to where he could see it.

"What's that?" Ron's voice jolted him from his thoughts and made him look up. Ron was pointing at the Moon Medallion,

"'Tis the Moon Medallion. There, my spirit dwelt, for thrice a hundred years. As I owned it in life, it doth anchor my soul after death."

"Hey, didn't this Nekros guy have the Moon Ring?"

"Yes. Twas a Dark Sorcerer."

"How many were there? Dark Sorcerers, I mean."

"Three. Each a kindless villain but Nekros…" Baron sighed and did not continue.

Hermione scratched her head in a way that looked like she was thinking about something, "So…" Hermione said slowly, "Nekros has a Moon Item and so do you…" she paused again and then snapped her fingers, "…how's this for a theory? What if all the Moon Items are…connected and you can reach them through yours. We can...get in and rescue Harry and Malfoy."

Baron thought about it with a spark of hope in his mind. _It doth sound sense enough to be true_. He smiled, "Harry is most fortunate to have such trusted friends. Said he: 'Hermione is the brightest witch her age'." Hermione blushed, looked flattered. _He'd said __**that?**_ "Come, we must attempt." He clasped his left hand on Hermione's shoulder, beckoned for Ron and clasped his right on his shoulder, "Naught wilt be left here but our flesh and bone. Befall Harry's guise, shalt this body. We will hath no other to help us. Wilst you come?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

Baron nodded. He clasped onto their shoulders harder and the surroundings faded into darkness. Hermione gave a small shriek as they began to descend and Ron gasped in shock. Both of them stayed where they were until the drop, not daring to separate themselves from Baron. Ron stared down, trying to see what at the bottom. Hermione was having difficulty in trying to see anything because her hair was always rippling in her face in a very comical way. They gently floated down to the door of light. All three slid smoothly through and floated easily down the floor. Hermione blew a bit of hair off her face, "That was a strange way to travel." and Ron had a look around. He nodded, appreciatively, "You've got good taste, Baron."

"I humbly thank you." He nodded to him.

"Are we in the Moon Medallion now?" Hermione studied the place with a close eyes.

"Yea; my resident place hitherto this epoch. Yet, ne'er have I ventured beyond this door. Shalt you investigate beyond with my company?" He approached a door that was left of the fireplace. The shadows from the fire in the grate made it almost impossible to see. He turned the doorknob and opened the door, beckoning to Ron and Hermione to follow him.

They entered a long corridor with a dead end and three doors on the right wall and the same number on the left. There was only one dimly lit chandelier hanging above them to see by. They squinted at the doors and Baron pushed his glasses further up his nose so he could see a little bit better. The doors were all perfectly unmarked and they had no way of telling where they led. Ron started to look hopeless again. He turned to Baron, "What do we do now, Baron?"

"Our thoughts shalt be our guides." Baron muttered slowly. Hermione gave him a look that asked plainly, 'How?' Baron didn't really know how to do it but he had a good idea, "Converge all the power of your mind onto searching for Harry. Our thoughts shalt light the path i'th'dark." Baron scrunched up his fists, concentrating…_'Wish I to be in the Moon Ring…Wish I that Harry should be found..'_

He noted that Hermione was muttering under her breath and Ron had his eyes screwed tight shut. Baron lifted his head and then saw a symbol glowing on the door in the most shadowy corner. The symbol of a dream-catcher with the Moon symbol in the centre. The Moon Ring!

"That's it!"

They hurried over to the door with the glowing symbol. Baron frowned. _What befitting door that doth hide in most veiling darkness! _He carefully pushed open the door a crack. They squinted through and saw a dark sort of passageway. Rather like the dungeons at Hogwarts. Only these were twice as chilling in more ways than one. For when they had opened the door, a chill wind blasted into their faces.

They could just see the passageway stretching out for what seemed like eternity. Stone men and women (all, Hermione noticed, with expressions of terror and shock on their faces) were set into the walls. They had their right hands stretched out and they were holding balls of dim violet fire. Baron frowned as he noticed how lifelike the statues looked and he concluded to himself that Nekros had petrified the memories of the sufferers in stone. He held out his arm before Ron and Hermione could step through,

"Before entrance of this perilous place, a word of caution." He beckoned them closer, "To trespass into our enemy's place, ist not a crime easily forgiven. Find, we must, Harry and Draco and hence from here at once. All the while, be wary; stray not from my side. Nekros will haunt and prey on any who venture alone."

Baron gripped his staff in spite of himself and his usually cool and calm attitude. He beckoned to Ron and Hermione who nervously followed him into the passageway. They ventured onwards through the dim corridor.

Unknown by any of them, another figure came from another door, slightly to the left of their door. He stealthily crept into the passage and closed his entrance behind him quietly. He began to follow them. Something silver was clasped in his hand…

Ron and Hermione tailed close to Baron. So close that they were almost touching his cloak. The hallway was very quiet. Far too quiet to be natural. There was no noise from any of the doors they passed. Yes, the corridor was lined with doors and you could not see the chambers within; you could only seen blackness through a small rectangular window with bars at them. The little places in the bars that weren't tinted with rust were a dark, dull grey. A cruel shade of grey.

The statues around did nothing to alleviate their fears. Baron turned away when they passed the relic of a small girl with tears streaming down her face and cuts all over her body. For he had known her well. She had been a lovely, sweet child; albeit not a very rich one. On the contrary, she had been a street urchin and he had failed to protect her…

Ron and Hermione did not know this but the sight of the statues still frightened and disgusted them to a point when both of them stopped looking at them. Hermione had almost been sick when her eyes fell on the statue of a small boy with his eyes screwed up in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks and his mouth was wide open in a scream. The arm that was reached out and holding the handful of fire looked like he was almost reaching out for help…

Hermione sped up past the statue and looked straight ahead. Ron grimaced at them and muttered, "You definitely have better taste in decorations, Baron."

"Yeah." Hermione was shivering a little, "I'd be happier in a morgue."

Baron said nothing. He was busy wondering where Harry and Draco could be; all the while, keeping his senses open for danger.

* * *

A/N: I might keep the original comments in the chapters when I update them. 


	8. Rescue!

A/N (12/10/07): More Shakespeare talk!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 8: Rescue!

The place was truly terrifying. It wasn't the prison-like doors lining the corridors or the gruesome statues in between them or the letters spelling out Nekros's motto all over the walls that was truly frightening. No, it was the too-quiet-to-be-anything-good atmosphere and the knowledge that Nekros might appear any second that truly made their hearts pound a mile a minute within their chests. Yet, there was no sign of him. Or any sign of life. They would have been glad to see a rat or a spider's cobweb. But the presence of nothing living made the place seem ten times worse. After about twenty minutes of silent, tense walking, Hermione leapt forward and grabbed Baron's arm, "What ho, Hermione?"

"I heard something behind us." Baron whipped round and Ron did too. All three searched the corridor frantically for any sign of movement. Baron shone a light from his hand around the place for any indication of their stalker. None.

There was a tense five minutes before Baron turned and continued, the false alarm giving them new fear. Hermione had reservations ever since she'd heard about it. But, Harry had to be rescued. And the imperious Baron frightened her a little. They didn't think to glance at their watches. None of them had any idea how long they had been walking non-stop. Ron's feet began to ache. Hermione moaned, "Oh, are we ever going to find them?"

"Yeah," Ron flopped down, "this place is humongous!"

Baron turned back and walked to where Hermione had stopped,

"May I show a way?"

Baron slipped off his Moon Medallion and knelt down on the floor, placing it in front of him. It started to enlarge and the Moon symbol vanished along with the cracks. The surface became smooth and mirror like. Ron and Hermione pressed close together to see what he was up to. Baron passed his hand over the Medallion and said, "Show Harry Potter."

The surface began to ripple like there was water inside. A black shape began to form. They lent closer in so much that Ron and Hermione's heads bumped together. The shape took form and it showed itself to be the interior of a dungeon. It was pitch black but, from the stripes of light coming from the window in the door, they could just about distinguish a figure in its dark interiors. He was watching the door without moving, "By my troth, tis Harry." Baron muttered,

He traced the edges in an anti-clockwise motion from the left side to the bottom. The picture did indeed rotate anticlockwise so they were looking at the door. It was still too small to see through so Baron made a motion with his hands as if something were right above the Medallion and he wanted to squeeze it in. The picture zoomed in until the window took up the whole picture. Through the bars they could see the picture of a woman who was covering her face and had the body of a man across her legs.

Baron gazed at it hard for a moment, muttering, "Open your doors of memory and doth enter this image within your brains." Hermione and Ron focused their thoughts on remembering that image. A silence thick with mind work followed before Baron broke the spell by passing his hand over the image and making it fade away once more. He beckoned to them jerkily and they nearly ran down the next corridor, checking and double-checking the walls for the statue. They kept on thinking,_ The next corridor…the next one…_

Baron was about to round the fifth corner when he suddenly said sharply, "Back!" Ron and Hermione both skidded to a halt. _What's going on? Is this Nekros coming?_

"Make no sound! Hence to the wall!"

Baron flattened himself against the wall and the other two followed him. They flattened themselves against the walls as far as they could; Hermione in the middle, Ron on the right and Baron on the left. Baron muttered, "A spell of invisibility is upon you. Tis but a very frail one. You art mortal and speak not. The smallest murmur will, this spell, break."

A shadow fell on the walls as well as footsteps approached. Hermione's heart began to pound worse than ever and Ron had gone unnaturally still, as if afraid that any movements would give them away. Around the corner came…

Baron could see Hermione stiffening along with Ron. Both were ferociously biting their upper lips to try and stop themselves from screaming out loud. He didn't blame them. Nekros's appearance was enough to frighten the living daylights out of braver people than them. Nekros was cursing fluently under his breath, "That Potter child's a tough one to crack. But I'll get to him. I'll break him. _I'll make him crawl just like Malfoy_."

He ended this with a smirk and his trademark sinister cackle. Hermione clasped Ron's wrist tightly. Both remained resolutely silent. Ron moved so he was like a protective wall in front of Hermione, looking over his shoulder at Nekros. Doing this made him notice something. In Nekros's hand was an blade that looked rather like a half of a pair of shears. The horrible thing was that blood dripped from the point, plopping onto the floor. Nekros rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, leaving a trail of blood dots behind him. They remained still and silent until his footsteps had vanished. Ron and Hermione then relaxed and let out the breath they didn't know they had been holding. _Wow,_ they were both thinking, _that was a close one!_

They then realised the position they were and quickly let one another go. Baron beckoned to them, "Hurry! We are close!" They rounded the corner and found the statue of the lamenting woman. They ran up to it. Yes, it was the right one! They looked opposite and saw the door. Baron raised his staff and muttered, "Stand away."

They retreated to the wall. Baron took careful aim, said a spell and the door began to crack from the middle. Then, with a blast like a bomb that shook their very innards, the door blasted apart. Baron strode forward but didn't need to. A figure staggered forward through the powdered dust, coughing, clasping his right arm. Baron took a few tentative steps forward. When the dust cleared,

"Harry!"

Baron hurried the rest of the way forward and clasped Harry on both shoulders. Harry winced a little and Hermione gasped. For she, Ron and now Baron saw Harry's arm was covered in blood. Harry moved his hand away and showed Baron the wound beneath. Baron pulled a face of disgust and, at a snap of his fingers, the wound was wrapped in a tight bandage, "Ist that better?"

Harry nodded, attempted a smile.

Baron clapped his shoulder with a smile. Then, he did the most unexpected thing in the world. He let go of his shoulders and embraced him, "Thank God." he whispered. Shocked and a little embarrassed. Harry stood there, not quite knowing what to do. He then glanced up over Baron and spotted Ron and Hermione. Feeling even more embarrassed, he asked,

"Ron? Hermione? What are you doing here? Did Nekros get you too?"

"No." Hermione shook her head, "Baron came into the Great Hall and asked us to come and help rescue you and Malfoy."

"Oh, and we know that Baron's really a spirit and about these Moon Items. You'd better have a good excuse for not telling us." He gave Harry an accusing glare which Harry recoiled from. Baron stood up,

"Where is Draco? Hast not you seen him?"

"Oh, he's back in there." he pointed back into the dark interior of the cell, "And, he's had it a lot worse than me. I think," He beckoned Baron closer, "I think Nekros wiped his memory clean." Harry looked over at Baron, who had stood up and, as he hurriedly entered the apparently empty cell, Harry caught sight of his expression. It was determined but at the same time, horrified. He raised his staff and a bright white orb of light appeared between the top wings, illuminating the dingy walls and the stained floor.

Ron and Hermione entered but only a little way. Harry said he would 'keep guard' when the real reason was that he couldn't bear to be in the horrendous place a second longer than he had to. Ron wrinkled his nose and Hermione's eyes widened. Baron was looking quickly around the room,

He then spotted him. In the corner, crouched and cowed was Draco. Or, what looked like Draco. For his head was covered by an featureless metal helmet that obscured his face completely apart from a small slot in front of his mouth. His wrists and ankles were chained together and the only thing that protected his naked skin from the freezing air was Harry's robe that he had obviously donated and draped around him like a cloak and a half-unbuttoned tunic made of thin white cloth underneath. Its hem hovered at least five inches above his knee, doing a very poor job of giving him warmth. The boy clutched the robe as though it was his only comfort in the world. Indeed, that must have been what he felt.

Baron approached him slowly, making his footsteps apparent and audible. Draco painfully lifted his head slightly and tried to back further into the wall, making himself smaller and smaller. _His eyes have me not. His mind cannot discern my figure. Naught but Nekros hath visited him._ Baron knelt down so he was nearer Draco's level, "Cast your fears away. I am one who brings you salvation. You hath suffered too long." He gently stroked his hand, "Forgive me. I hath delayed too much."

Baron wiped the tears from his own eyes at these words. _Delay in my hand is my brother's murderer_, "Stay a while. I will cast off this instrument." he whispered to Draco. With that, Baron placed his forefinger on the top of his head and drew a straight line all the way down to the bottom. Where his finger touched, a white line appeared. Once the finger was removed, the glow vanished but a slit remained in its place. The same fate met the other side of the mask until the mask was dividing in half. Baron dug his fingers into it and he slowly, gently, split the helmet open. Once it was removed, it vanished from Baron's hands.

Draco's eyes opened and squinted a little, not used to the light, seeing something for the first time he could remember. Baron could see his blotchy cheeks and tracks that tears had made down his face. His hair was lank and flat, several strands straggling into his eyes. Baron took hold of his cheeks and gently stroked them. As he looked into the poor boy's eyes, he realised that Harry was right. Draco had been robbed of the most important thing to a person: _memories_. Nekros always did that. Draco had forgotten everything: his family, his friends...right down to his own name. He doubted that even remembered how to speak.

_It must be remedied. It __**shall **__be done! _He raised his staff to the chains connecting his wrists, took aim and, with one swift jab, reduced them to dust in the air. The same fate met the ankle chains. Draco looked up at Baron, wide-eyed. He kept a grip on Baron's hand, taking in that it was warm. Then, suddenly and obviously without forethought, Draco dived into Baron, the robe falling from him. He buried his face into Baron's body wanting to feel as much warmth as he could.

Baron, after getting over his shock, gently moved Draco up so he was sitting on his lap and was leaning into his chest and moved his arms around the boy's cold near-bare body in an embrace. Draco, who did not remember any affection being shown to him, copied Baron's actions and hugged him back. He clutched the back of Baron's shirt, a small sob escaping him,

"Fear is not needed." Baron whispered, "I shalt deliver you from this wretched place."

Draco looked up at him with a sorrowful smile. He, of course, didn't know where they would go but anywhere was better than here in his eyes. He did not suspect the man. From this moment on, a complete and indestructible trust had forged between Draco and this kind, dark-haired man. They remained motionless for several long moments. Draco leaned into Baron's chest, sobbing softly, and Baron rested the side of his face on top of Draco's head.

Baron then slowly let go (Draco certainly did not) and moved aside the white tunic. He placed his right hand on Draco's heart, where a long cut was. The skin around it began to glow a little brighter white and the skin and flesh knitted back together as if it had never been touched. The glow spread through Draco's body and the boy leaned into Baron's chest again, closing his eyes lazily and smiling as if enjoying it. The first nice feeling he remembered. Except when that other boy had given him that robe.

When the light had spread through his entire body, there was a flash of whiteness that contrasted sharply with the dark dungeon.

When the brightness faded, Ron and Hermione looked over to see what had happened to Draco and saw Baron helping him to his feet. He looked quite normal, healthy and wearing his Hogwarts robes that were clean and brand new. What little colour had been in his face had returned. It was no longer dirt-streaked. Baron was smiling brighter than ever. Draco looked into his face,

"You're Baron, aren't you? Potter told me about you a while ago when I was...well..." He really didn't want to say it but Baron understood,

"Yea. Now, we must escape. The clamour made was not as hushed as I had hoped. We must away." He took hold of the edge of his cloak and reached it out to Draco, "Come, Draco. Under my cloak; you shalt hide." He seemed grateful to be there as he had flinched slightly at the mention of them leaving the cell. Draco came forward and Baron held out the side of his cloak that wasn't tucked around his arm. Baron covered him with it and held the boy close to his side. They left the cell and made to go back the way they came.

Just then, the statues seemed to come to life. The first two came up and moved with a grinding stone noise even though their expressions remained the same. They threw their handfuls of flame at them that struck the ground with tremendous force that shook the floor and sent bright streaks of red flame flying everywhere like deadly misaimed fireworks.

Ron and Hermione clutched one another again, leapt back, overbalanced and fell flat on the floor. Ron swore. Hermione screamed. Harry flattened himself to the wall, his arms covering his face. Baron stayed where he was and swept his cloak in front of him and a terrified Draco like a shield (the boy had buried his face into Baron's side, too scared to move by himself).

It did seem to work because, when everything was calm, the two were unarmed, though Draco was very shaken,

"How now? Hast you hurt?" Baron called back at the other three.

"I don't think so." Harry coughed through the ash hanging in the air.

Ron and Hermione looked like they were hugging one another of the floor with Hermione burying her face into Ron's chest. Draco laughed at their posistion and they quickly let one another go. They didn't look at each other for a long while after that. Harry didn't pay any attention to them however. Where the two fireballs had struck were two three-foot deep craters and shooting from them were violet sparks like fountains. Harry took a step back. _What's happening now?_

Just as he did, a torrent of purple flame shot up to the ceiling from the nearest crater. He jumped back a foot and the others stared at what was happening. As they did, a second tornado of flame shot up from the second hole. They swirled like tornados and sparks showered down like walls of bright rain. The torrents then moved to the edge of the floor where it met the ceiling and stopped there. They crossed and the violet rain made a wall in front of it,

"What now?"

"To go back is ne'er a well thought. We must hope for an egress as we must continue. Our favour is not time! Hence, all of you!" He turned and led the way down the dark corridor, walking a little faster so they had to jog to keep up. They moved swiftly through the now silent corridor. There was little movement anywhere and that made them feel a little more at ease.

Draco was still under Baron's cloak though and his eyes flicked from corner to corner, shadow to shadow as if knowing that something would pop out any second. Baron slowed down a little and walked at a steadier and less frantic pace. Now the horror of the fire wall was long behind them, the corridor didn't look half as terrifying as it first did.

Suddenly, there was a gust of chill wind that smacked their faces and pulled at their hair. The prison doors banged open of their own accord and white, swirling, gliding fog escaped slowly, lazily from the depths within. They glided along the floors silently like immense snakes before rising up to the ceiling, surrounding them. The group pressed themselves together as the wall of whiteness circled, prowled, blocked from them every inch of the corridor, every chance of escape. It felt rather like they were within a tornado. Ron and Hermione began clutching each other again.

Then it happened. Hermione screamed and pointed to the wall nearest to her, "There was a face!" She cried, "There was a face in there. Look, there it is again!" This time they saw it. A colourless face of a man with white hair and skin though his face was wrinkleless with glowing, mad yellow eyes. The most gruesome thing about it was that it looked like half the face had rotted; the skin dark and mottled.

Ron jumped back, horror-struck. Harry swore. Draco whimpered and buried his face into Baron's side again. For there were more faces. Faces of women, men and children. All partially rotted and all staring with their blank eyes. All eyes were on them. Baron scowled, "Nekros has galvanised his army against us."

"His _army?_"

"Imprisoned, bare souls. Tis their only purpose to serve him."

"He controls them?"

"Their will ist his. Ne'er shall they disperse till he doth come upon us."

Draco whimpered again. He did not want to face Nekros again, for now he remembered what he looked like,

"Can't we just go through them?"

"No! Hold your stand. They may hath power to drain all life! Stay there, I say it!"

Hermione was close to tears now, "_Isn't there any way to get out?_" she screamed at Baron. She was becoming hysterical with fear over all this. There was nothing in all the books she'd read that told her anything about getting beyond evil drained spirits. This desperate lack of knowledge made her feel vulnerable and dispensable,

"Prithee, peace, Hermione!" He raised his staff high into the air and shot a bright jet of blue light upwards. It began to shoot sparks everywhere like a flying Catherine wheel, The souls seemed fascinated by it. They shot up into the ceiling like a theatre curtain, leaving their way clear. They looked around frantically before Harry yelled,

"OVER THERE!" He pointed to an archway with a rusty, graveyard-like gate. And it was ajar. It may be their only hope,

"Come!"

Baron and Draco hurried forward followed by Ron and Hermione and then Harry. They slipped through the crack and Harry swung the gate shut. They hurried on into the dark chamber until they came to a wall, then a corner and rounded it. They waited for a moment. They heard a whooshing noise and doors closing. The souls were gone. Ron wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, "Phew! Glad we're out of there." Baron looked around,

"Yes. Pity you won't make it!" They whipped round. From the shadows came the armoured figure of Count Jean de Nekros. He was smirking in his sinister way and cackling. Draco cowered into Baron's cloak. The air became distinctly colder and it chilled straight to the bone. Nekros suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Hermione. She screamed as his freezing metal came into contact with her. He pulled her back and leaned over her in a sick kind of romantic way. He smiled as he stroked her face, "Well, hello, my pretty..."

"Let her go!" Ron took a step forward, wand raised. Nekros merely laughed,

"Come along then, Ronald. Humour me with your pathetic third-year spells and know this. If you try to attack, then I'm afraid that this damsel in distress," he shook Hermione again, "will be trapped in her tower forever with her _knight-in-shining-armour_." He sneered maliciously at Ron. His sneer was short lived however. Starting quiet and then raising to a volume that resonated within their hearts was a deep, melodic sound rather like a bell. It was impossible to describe and if one tried, it would need a whole book to itself. Sometimes, it was like a church bell and sometimes it was like the bang of a judge's gavel.

I will merely say that it was a pleasure for our heroes to hear.

Nekros however dropped Hermione and fell to his knees with his hands over his ears. When it faded away, he got up and screamed, "WHO DARES MAKE THAT SOUND? WHO DARES INTRUDE IN MY DOMAIN AND MAKE THAT DIABOLICAL NOISE?" Another ring answered. It sounded again and again, persistent. Nekros clapped his hands to his ears, rocking back and forth, moaning as if the sound were attacking him. As it sounded for a third time, Nekros let out a terrible scream and fled from the corridor and out of sight,

"Wow," Ron stared after, "That's got rid of him!" Draco then peeked out from under Baron's cloak. Another sound filled the air, this one softer and more gentle with larger spaces in between notes. It seemed to be almost calling. No, it _was _calling. Draco then realised that there was meaning in the sound. It was calling to him; telling him to follow the sound. Everything would be alright. He came out completely, walking slowly as if in a trance, still a little uncertain. Then, the gentle sound came again. He could almost hear a reassuring voice,

"_Draco._"

It was as if the music was softly caressing his very soul, extinguishing all doubts. _Nekros is gone. My chains were broken. What is there to be scared of? _He began to run back along the passage,

"Malfoy!"

"Where're you going?"

"Come back, I charge you!"

Baron gave chase and the others followed. They soon found out they were in a maze. Paths were branching off. They always came to various forks and junctions. Draco knew it was alright however. The sound was guiding him, telling him where to go. He ignored the others demanding what he thought he was doing. Ron started complaining that his feet hurt after a while. Draco couldn't understand. _Can't they hear it?_ He hurried on around a corner and vanished from sight. The others pressed on and whipped round the corner. Draco had stopped running and stood there with...

"_Professor Snape_?"

They stared; Harry most of all. Professor Snape was there with Draco and, in his armoured hand was a little silver bell in a large flat seashell. Small, yet very loud. Miniature arrows were carved upon the bell, along with towers (mostly around the rim), along with a carved compass. On top of the shell was a small candle, a long stream of smoke rising from the wick as though a flame had just gone out.

Baron stiffened. He recognised that bell. And those other two bells that hung from clamps on a breastplate of armour. Ron and Hermione noticed his new hairstyle of his hair covering the left side of his face so his left eye was covered, "What are you doing here, Professor?"

"How about we start with a thank-you, Weasley?" he frowned a little and held up the instrument. A flick of the wrist later and the sound floated through the air once more. Hermione was about to ask what it was when he interrupted her with an answer, "It's quite a powerfully magical instrument, Miss Granger. This one is the bell that drove him away." he pointed to the one on his left. An engraving of sword with a butterfly over it decorated the bell itself and it was hanging from a ring of blue ribbon. The clapper was on the outside, obviously meant for the user to sound it manually,

"Nekros hated the sound?" Nods all round, "All part of the magic. It's a pleasure for hearts of good but a horror to hearts of evil." He was suddenly interrupted by a rumbling sound. Harry went red, as it had been his stomach,

"Sorry..."

"Well, I'm rather famished myself. If we get out of here now, we might make it in time for breakfast."

"Have we been gone _that_ long?" Ron burst out.

"Yes, Weasley. It's nearly eight o'clock. Didn't you notice?" Ron looked abashed. With all the excitement of the rescue, they hadn't had a moment to spare to look at their watches. He glanced at his and saw that Snape was quite right. The minutes hand was only a little way from the twelve and the hour hand was firmly on the eight. With that, Snape clamped the bell he had been holding on the right. He picked out the middle bell, one with carvings of swords and shields and a long handle. For some reason, it did not have a clapper and it looked somewhat more roughly made than the other two.

Then, the handle turned out to not be a handle at all. Snape pulled a large part of it away to reveal a knife with such a bright shine that it seemed to have its own light, "Stand back." Baron retreated. He knew what sort of things that bell could do. The others did so, seeing Baron's reaction. Immediately, Snape pulled down the visor of the metal helmet he was wearing so that his mouth and nose were covered. That, with the breastplate and gloves made him look almost like a knight. He turned the wall and, with a very quick motion, has stabbed it with the knife.

A few seconds after coming into contact to the wall, the bell sounded. It had to be the bell. Nothing else could make that noise. That dark, loud, almost wild, ring. Like a wolf's howl. A shockwave accompanied the sound and the wall crumbled, falling down as rubble. What was left was a gap more than big enough for them to get through. They just stared in shock. _How did he do that? _He walked through and, noticing they were not following, he poked his head back through after pushing up his visor,

"You do want to get out of here alive, don't you? Look," he sighed, frustrated at their cautious looks, "stay here and you'll get caught be Nekros again. Follow me and I promise I'll get you out of here alive. Your choice." He leaned against the wall, waiting and added, with a bit of his old sarcasm, "Take your time. There's just Nekros, deadly spirits and god knows what else around here. We're quite safe here; in the middle of this maze that would take ages to get out if you didn't come prepared..."

"_Peace!_" Baron yelled, swallowing his pride as he did so, "Ne'er will I hear this mordant arrogance! Ne'er shall you scorn I! But, I shalt obey your lead upon one clause."

Snape turned to him, "Tell on, Sir."

"Tis when I see you I do sense powers. Strange powers surround your soul. I therefore place upon your head an order; I charge you tell me wherefore these powers come to be and how you ownst my beloved councilor's bells within seven days!" he almost shouted this in his annoyance.

Snape actually gave Baron a small bow. A big surprise to all of them, "It shall be done, Sir, in three days. Come along, now. We're nearly there."

Snape continued to smash walls down as they made their way through the maze, always making sure that his visor was down before doing it. Baron kept close to his elbow, as if determined to find out something. He only backed off when he was elbowed in the ribs (by accident or on purpose was not clear). About five minutes later, Snape knocked down one final wall, "And there's the exit."

They gratefully ran to the opening and found the door that led to the Moon Medallion. Snape walked a little way to the left, "Don't worry about me. I'm going back another way." Ron, Draco, Hermione and Harry went through the Moon Medallion door without a backward glance. The last person to go through was Baron who gave him a suspicious look as he too exited.

* * *

Back in the hospital wing, Baron watched as the others roused. Ron promptly rolled over and snored as he went back to sleep. Hermione too couldn't be bothered waking up either. Harry sat up and his stomach groaned again from the lack of food again. Draco had roused long ago and had been discharged. Baron took the opportunity of Ron and Hermione being asleep to take from them the memories of the previous night. Harry noticed this and asked why he did it, "They helped us!"

Baron gave him a serious look as he stowed the bottles full of their silver memories in his pocket, "Inclined not, am I, to trust people upon such reasons."

Harry was left feeling that maybe Baron didn't trust him as much as he thought.

* * *

A/N: You can understand what Baron's saying, can't you? 


	9. The Eye

A/N: Hello there, once again! Here's some review responses: 

**emeraud.silver:** Your wish is my command! Here's the update.

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But where, oh, where is Bundibird? I'm getting worried. I haven't heard from her since Chapter 7...

Power of the Moon

Chapter 9: The Eye

Baron never slept since he was an insomniac. The next two nights were particularly restless for him, however. He sat on the end of Harry's bed, deep in troubled thought. _What man is he?_

_More than a tutor. Much more...the Semita bells were his guard. His hand pacified Eversor. Ne'er a man untrained could tame her. Sabian held them. Hast they descended down through family? What ist? Ist the inheritor or thief?_

It was rattling. _If Sabian doest have an heir, what heir ist that have entry to the Moon Ring? Or even hath knowledge of't? Are there such other doors? Had the tidings been inherited with the bells? Such an amount of information should e'er be lost time o'er. Or maybe...could this Professor Snape perhaps come to have an Item...and come to meet Sabian…but which Item doth he possess?_

He had to be sure. It was trying and nerve racking to just wait but Snape had made his promise and he had respect that. It was only good manners. He stood up and began to pace up and down the dormitory. Always saying to himself: _Tomorrow…Tomorrow…_

He sat on the window ledge as he often did at night and wondered over the many things that had been plaguing his mind for the last few days. The mystery of Professor Snape, rescuing Harry and Draco and how it was now harder than ever to forget...He hit himself in the head for thinking about such forbidden thoughts. It hurt a lot but at least it relieved some of his inner pain.

The harder he tried to push it out of his head; the harder the memories pushed back. He had soon forgotten about the mystery of Snape and now was dwelling on what grieved him the most. He undid his shirt cuffs and looked at his wrists. Yes, the scars were still there.

_Still, ne'er shalt I not be allow'd..._

He looked around the common room for something sharp. Anything...He spotted a quill on Ron's desk. It had a pointed edge, albeit not very sharp. _With improvement..._ He picked it up and, using a small spell, made it as sharp as flint. He passed it to his left hand and rolled up his sleeve to his elbow where the scars covered nearly all of his arms. He placed the tip of the quill to the centre of his palm and pressed down hard until it pierced the skin. He pressed harder until sparking red gems of blood decorated his hand. The quill was cold; an icy contrast to the hot pain and warm blood.

He gasped, sank down to the floor so he could lie down on the hard, cold wood. His cloak was spread out beneath him like a picnic blanket. He closed his eyes in pure delight. He was in his own world now. He was away from the clashing light and dark forces; away from being expected to be everyone's hero...oh, yes, he had been under pressure to be perfect...an icon they looked up to...their hero..._o, if only knowest they_...

He snapped out of his bliss at the fact that the sun was beginning to rise. The sun's crimson rays of light matched the crimson beads on his skin perfectly. He got to his feet and, with a wave of his hand, cleared up the small pool of blood that had leaked from his arm. He healed up the cut, cleaned the quill and placed it back on Ron's bedside table. He then sat down beside Harry; who was still sleeping and had not stirred once.

Too many thoughts had always kept Baron awake. He had made the Moon Medallion so it could look to the present not only so he could keep an eye on those important to him but also so he wouldn't be tempted to look to the past. Baron had been the same age as Harry when he had stopped sleeping altogether. Harry was so lucky. He didn't have siblings. He had been too young to remember the night his parents died. His mind wasn't plagued with memories of what could have been.

* * *

"Wake! Harry, at once!" Baron's chirpy sounding voice shook Harry from his dreams. He groaned and rolled over so he was on his back, facing Baron. He gave Baron an annoyed look,

"Baron, you might want to try sleeping. You might like it"

Baron frowned at the insensitive comment but didn't say anything. He then resumed his chirpy manner, "Come, Harry! Tis Potions! Tis Potions!"

"Oh yes." groaned Harry turning over onto his stomach again, grabbing the covers, "wouldn't miss it for the world. Good night!" He pulled the covers over his head and closed his eyes. Baron made a frustrated noise and gave the covers a hard tug so they came loose from Harry's grip and flew off him. Harry groaned. Baron did too,

"O, heaven and earth, Harry! Knowest you what day ist?"

"Er...the day when it's about time you stopped waking me up at the crack of dawn!"

"No, by Heaven! I swore Snape to tell his secret past three days. Three days have now passed."

Harry slowly remembered but only slowly because he was still half asleep. He was silent for a moment. Just then, a needle-sharp pain shot through the palm of his left palm. He yelled out and Baron leapt into action, "What ho?" He stared at it. The skin was smoking, hissing like an extinguished fire. There was a deep red, livid mark where it was coming from. Harry couldn't see what form it was in because of the smoke. It was almost like someone invisible had branded him there.

Harry closed his palm to try and relieve the pain, shaking, hunched up with agony. His vision was becoming clouded with pure white-hot pain. So strong and horrible was it, that Harry thought his hand might have been pierced by a white hot poker. It was worse than anything he'd felt in his scar, worse than when he'd been pierced by a foot-long fang. He slumped forward into Baron's arms, shaking. Baron opened his hand and waved his hand to clear the smoke with little success. He squinted through the black veil of smoke and saw the red shape on his hand.

He touched the vulnerable skin and muttered a spell. Harry's hand became bound in a tight bandage but Harry was still shaking, now turning white. He placed his hand tenderly palm to palm with Harry's injured one and willed the pain away. It was not an easy thing to do. Whatever was causing this was some very powerful magic. Way beyond the talents of the best wizarding mortal.

_O, heavens! Tis sorcery!_

Baron knew that Harry was panicking. He stroked the boy's hair to try and calm him as he muttered the spell over and over again. Gradually, Harry stopped shaking and the spell became less difficult to overcome. Harry slumped in a dead faint in Baron's arms. Baron gave a wry smile. _Well, twas a waste to wake him. _He unfurled the bandages and looked at the cooling mark on the boy's skin. Oh, the shock and fright he got!

The Moon symbol! The very symbol on the Moon Medallion. _What on God's earth is this? _Baron stared at the mark. He traced it with his finger. It seemed to have sunk into the skin so it was no longer a burn, brand or a scar so it looked like the skin had just darkened considerably at that point.

_What is this? What unearthly power has caused this? _His confusion increased as he ran his left hand through his hair and then, noticed that he too had the same mark on his palm. Yet he had never felt it. Maybe he had been too caught up in helping Harry to notice. This was truly rattling. First Severus Snape now this...

* * *

"What happened to your hand, Harry?"

It was breakfast and Ron had noticed the bandage around the still throbbing mark on his hand. Harry looked around wildly for an excuse and quickly said, "I just burned myself on a candle, that's all." Ron looked a bit suspicious but let it pass. Baron kept his eyes on Snape. He still had his hair covering the left side of his face like a greasy black mask and he could have sworn his eyes had flicked up to him every few minutes. Owls came flooding into the room with the morning post and Harry, very surprisingly, received a small note from a jet black owl with feathers sleek as metal and a few white feathers half-hidden beneath the black ones on its breast and head. Harry read the words written in small, cramped writing:

_I have kept my word. My office: tonight at 7pm. Bring Baron and don't be late._

"Good." muttered Baron, "It seems that my oath doth make him obey."

He gave the man another glance and did a double take. His left hand too was bandaged. At the palm like Harry's.

* * *

"Did you see Snape's hand?"

"I did see't, Harry. Whatever afflicted you hath afflicted him too."

"Yeah...I saw it too in Potions. What d'you think this could mean, Baron? D'you reckon...?"

"Prefect!" They ducked into the shadows as a prefect came round the corner that moment. Once he went around the corner, they set off again, opening the door to the dungeons. Baron's pocket watch showed that it was a few minutes to seven, which few minutes they spent striding down the ominous corridor and they came to a halt in front of Snape's office. Before Harry could knock, Snape's voice within said,

"Ah, Potter and Baron are here right on time. Sabe, get the door."

"Sabe?" muttered Baron. A wild hope had stolen over him. _Could this mean..._

A disgruntled, Scottish voice answered, "Och, what did your last slave die of?"

"Just do it."

Baron's face was full of joy. He now knew who it was with Professor Snape. _Open! O, open!_ After a few seconds that felt like an hour, the door opened and it showed a man that looked very familiar to Harry. A person dressed in blue he had seen in Baron's memory. He had long, shiny hair (in such colours that reminded Harry of a Rough Collie) done up in a loose ponytail and coming down his right shoulder. His fringe covered the left side of his face just like Snape's and had the same sort of thin face shape. Unlike Snape, though, his face looked kind and honest rather than severe, rather like one of a favourite uncle. A white cloak hung on his shoulders with the corner curled about his right elbow. Unlike Baron's, a large circular silver clasp had a B on his left shoulder kept it in place and had a small goatee dyed silver.

Baron's face lit up even more and he almost knocked the man backwards in a hug, "_Sabian!_"

"Whoa!" Sabian staggered backwards into the room, "Steady on there, Gabriel!"

"With all due respect, Sir, I know you are pleased to see him but you don't have to knock him over!"

Snape appeared from the shadows, looking mildly amused. Harry stared. _Can Snape actually see Baron?_

"Perfectly well, Potter."

Harry jumped. _Did he just read my mind?_ Baron interrupted, "Harry, this is Sabian. Councillor Sabian de Brunroux. My councillor and fellow Exiled."

"How d'you do, laddie." He and Sabian shook hands, Sabian smiling. Snape stepped forward and walked around his desk into the light from one of the candles. Harry saw him clearly now. He raised his bandaged left hand and, with one fluid motion, had swept back the part of hair that covered part of his face and tucked it behind his ear. Harry let out an very audible gasp.

For, the skin surrounding his left eye was covered by a silver plate like a mask, with a hole made for the eye. The little skin that Harry could see on that part of his face was covered in half-healed burns, tearing away the skin and disfiguring his face with an ugly dark red colour. Harry supposed that this affliction had eaten away always the entire side of his face and the mask covered it. Only his mouth and the area around his jaw line had survived. In the place where his left eye should have been was not the counterpart of the right one. No, there was a piece of silver in place of it like it had been actually set in his eye instead of an eyeball with a cat-pupil-like slit carved down the middle. On the silver was carved the Moon Symbol. _Was that...?_

"A Moon Item? Yes. The Moon Eye." Snape answered his unasked question again. _How is he doing this? _"Its special power is seeing through walls, doors and into the minds of others." _Oh, I see_, "and, as you may have guessed, its resident spirit is Sabe here. And another thing you should know." He began to undo the bandages on his hand. When they unraveled completely, he raised it, palm towards them.

That hand too had a section in the shape of the Moon Mark darkened, "Sabe gave me this brand that passes on to those who have Moon Items as soon as it is there. I know it felt like a white-hot poker had gone straight through your hand but you'll thank him for it later. It's a way of keeping in contact."

He placed his palm on the base of his neck and Harry felt a slight tingling sensation in his hand. Looking down, he saw the Mark glowing softly white, "_Now, whenever you need to contact me_," Harry started when he looked up and saw Snape's lips weren't moving, "_put your hand at the base of your neck and think what you want to say to me. Wherever you are, I'll hear it. Like you can hear me_."

"_So_," Harry tried this and felt that he'd found the right place from the slight warmth in his hand and where he'd placed it, "_it's just like talking in your mind to the spirits. Except to each other._"

Snape moved his hand away and folded his arms, "Well, you do better at this than you do at Shrinking Solutions."

Harry had the strong feeling that this was a compliment.

* * *

Moonlight shone through the windows of the fourth floor corridor. It was completely deserted. Not a prefect or teacher in sight. A perfect place for a student to wander without being caught. There was nothing to stop them or to give anyone away. All the portraits were asleep. Peeves and the ghosts were nowhere near the place.

A silence hung all around the place. In every corner, right down to a mousehole in the skirting boards under the window, with its residents (a family of house mice) sleeping, curled up with their heads tucked into their legs, content in their sanctuary. Nothing passed their home. Except the odd house-elf. But, that night, something else broke the quiet of the night haven.

Out of the darkness of the corridor, there came a light. A white light, lifted about six or seven feet above the floor. It shone through the whole corridor and illuminated the figure of Baron below it. He noiselessly moved across the carpeted floor. The globe of light he had conjured provided him with a guide of which way to go. However, he seemed to find his way around without his eyes. Head bowed, arms limp against his shoulders, he moved slowly. Like a sleepwalker. The Baron could never sleep.

At the end of the corridor was a long mirror. Baron's eyes caught a flash of reflection from it. On instinct, he changed course and moved towards it. His legs moved on their own, towards the gold-framed looking-glass. One of the mice poked its head out of the mousehole, just risen for its slumber. It spotted the man with its black eyes, taking in his slow but fluid movements. A large, four-legged shape could be seen slinking around the corner...

Baron reached out his hand, as if in a dream, and his fingers gently caressed the cold surface, "So like metal," a voice came from his mouth. A hollow, toneless voice, "Yet breaks like glass." Finally, he looked up at his own reflection. A dark-haired, mournful-looking young man gazed back at him. No life could be seen in him. Not even his eyes seemed alive.

They were dark-green, as always. Just like the pictures of himself in his youth. But that boy had been laughing, grinning, sometimes giving a cheeky wink to the camera. But now...what a change had come upon him as he grew up!

The image in the mirror showed eyes that had lost all mirth. They looked slightly into the distance, seeing more than was meant to be seen, knowing more than was meant to be known. They saw yet they did not betray any feelings that he may have. They were frozen over. As if a layer of ice was preserving those eyes in a permanently mournful look. As if he was forever gazing upon a deceased loved one.

A small whine could be heard beside him. He looked down. A large black dog with matted fur and a thin-looking physique. Yet it was a big as a bear. The fur made up for its lack of flesh. After a moment's hard looking, Baron crouched down, with a small smile, "Greetings...Sirius."

The dog immediately tensed. In an instant, it turned round to try and flee. Baron's hand reached out and grabbed the animal by the scruff of the neck. He could feel the muscles pumping; trying to get away from him, "Do not fear me, Sirius." He spoke patiently, just as the animal reached around to try and bite his hand, "The Ministry hath no word of you from me. Lily and James did confide me of the truth. Pettigrew is the one to blame, ne'er you."

Again, the animal stood still for a moment. Then, the fur disappeared, the face flattened and, in a few short seconds, it had become a thin, pale, dark-haired man. The person who had been emblazoned on many _Daily Prophets_ was now kneeling before him, shocked and staring at the young man, "Lily and James?"

Baron closed his eyes, "I am Gabriel."

Then, he realised. His eyes widened as the memory came to his mind, "No..."

"Peter's treachery was known to me fore this day. Disbelief; assured they he would ne'er do't. James charg'd me false with allegiance to Voldemort. T'were reluctant to heed my words." He sat on the wooden floor, his back against the wall in contemplation. Sirius stared at him from where he knelt as though he was the apparition of an angel. He was shocked by this sudden information. To finally meet the mysterious person that Lily and James had so long ago. But, this couldn't be him...

"Hang on." He looked Baron up and down again, taking in his youthful appearance, "You can't be. Lily said you were only a few years younger than she was. But you only look a bit older than Harry now..."

"Disbelief meets you too?"

"Yes, it has."

"The betrayal of Pettigrew; canst you think of any who else know?"

Sirius was taken aback by this. He always thought he was the only one who knew that and was still alive. The boy sighed, "I known that disbelief would meet you. Nay, it matters not." He stood up, facing the mirror again. Sirius saw him twice; once in the mirror, once in front of him. _He looks too old, _he thought _Not physically old. But, in a way, he looks older than Dumbledore. Like he knows so much more than he should. Like he's seen so much more than he should._

The younger closed his eyes again, "This might even by the only time we meet. The love Lily and James bore you was most high and solid. And Remus."

Pausing, he seemed to expect an interruption from Sirius. When none came, he continued, "Ne'er am I without flaw. I fought, battled with Voldemort by their side to protect Harry that night. Alack; my magic, t'was weak. They were stung by green curse. E'er I could have yielded to protect, Voldemort would ne'er seen the light of day." Sirius felt more like the boy was talking to himself rather than to him until, "but, by my troth, I will ne'er be so foolhardy with Harry." His sudden vicious tone vanished as soon as it had come. Speaking more gently, he whispered, "He hath his father's face but his mother doth shine through his gentle eyes. Lily..." He smiled, "...I might call her a thing divine. My own mother is in her. Just as James brought back so many memories of my father. Ay me, the lone magpie sits in my heart with no friendly company..."

"Excuse me." Sirius was getting sick of hearing things without explanation, "but just what the _hell _are you going on about?"

The boy gave him a sideways look and sighed, "Forgive me. I say not sense so heed it not." He then turned his back to Sirius, taking a step in the other direction,

"Hey! You haven't answered me!"  
He stopped, his white back to Sirius. He couldn't see his face so he didn't see the frown, "Seek not more knowledge; innocence is your saviour."

With that, he walked down the corridor. Sirius wanted to shout and stop him but he couldn't think of anything to say. Every time he opened his mouth, his mind went blank. _Damn it! That boy's so weird but I can't think of a thing to ask him._ Too soon, the boy had reached the corner and said, "Farewell, Sirius Black." Once he had vanished, his mind cleared again. He ran to the corner, whisked around, "Hey, y-"

He wasn't there. Gabriel had disappeared.

* * *

A/N: Well, what d'you make of that? Plz review! 


	10. The Grave of the Brother

A/N: Update: (24/09/07) Checked Baron's dialect a bit on demand on Bundibird.

(12/10/07) Checked Baron's speech again!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 10: The Grave of the Brother

It seemed that getting the Moon Eye had done Snape some good. He was no longer bullying Neville (Sabian always stopped him by jabbing him with his elbow), had stopped sniping at Harry and had stopped favouring the Slytherins. This had not gone down very well with them. Harry once overheard Pansy Parkinson say 'how could a teacher that is doing really well suddenly do that?' Baron spotted Professor McGonagall pinching herself a couple of times.

Harry, however, had other things on his mind. The first Quidditch match was coming up and Harry was training harder than ever. The weather worsened and he was tried to his very limit, "Such a tempest of devils should these games deter!" roared Baron on a particularly windy day. Baron had taken to going with Harry during practice. He had refused pointblank to remain on the ground.

Despite this, it was obvious that he did not like being in the air one bit. Nevertheless, he mounted the broom behind Harry and they flew together, with Baron clutching Harry's waist. No one noticed of course but it was annoying when the wind was blowing behind them and Baron's cloak was blowing into Harry's face from behind (he promised not to wear it on the day). Then came rather drastic news. That Slytherin would not be playing them that weekend. Hufflepuff would instead.

"What happened?" Angelina propped her broom against the wall, staring,

"Probably too wimpy to play in this weather!" Fred suggested, scornfully. George nodded, laughing with the same scorn. Baron glowered furiously at them,

"No!" roared Wood at the twins, "There's something wrong with Malfoy apparently!" Baron's ears pricked up at this comment,

"What is it?" he asked. Angelina did so at the same time.

"I dunno. What I do know is that fainted in the middle of the Slytherin Common Room." The twins laughed derisively at this, earning them unfelt elbows in the arms from Baron, "He then woke up, all scared and babbling that they had to stop the match." This comment was awarded with complete silence of shock. Baron leaned forward a little in his seat, silently encouraging him to continue, "He told Flint about someone sending his servants and he had to stop the match. I know; weird!"

"And just a shade creepy."

Wood nodded, "Well, you know Flint. He wasn't going to back out of the tournament. But Malfoy wasn't having any of it. I actually heard him beg to Flint." He put on a high, frightened voice, " 'Don't make me go on there! He'll be waiting for me. Don't send me there!' " He cleared his throat and spoke normally, "The way he was talking; you'd think he was going to be sent to Azkaban or something."

Fred and George snickered. Baron scowled and took a swipe at the two of them, that passed straight through their heads and didn't in the slightest bit hurt them. After Baron had turned his attention away from them, Wood clapped his hands,

"Right. Now Malfoy's gone insane, we'll have to work out a whole new strategy. But we'll do that tomorrow. Right! Everyone out!"

Harry stood up but Baron held him back, "Our words should ne'er be heard." They hid themselves in the shower-rooms behind a closed door until all of them had filed out. When they had all gone, they went back out and sat down on one of the benches together. Baron looked as though he was deep in thought. He ran a hand through his hair; a common motion to show that he was thinking, "...this turn of events has me much astonished. Methinks the villain Nekros is abroad."

"What? Nekros, _again? _What's he up to now?"

"Nekros did pluck Draco's feeble soul to his abode and hath given him this knowledge to aggrieve him. Yet..."

Harry thought for a moment, "Did Nekros have...y'know...followers?"

"More of a mystery it is that he had none. The Dark Sorcerers employed no true servants. Quoth they 'No man can equal us'."

"So what can he mean by 'sending his servants'?"

Baron lapsed into thought, "Those souls lost in that Ring may be the thing..."

They were interrupted when Snape entered followed by Sabian. Apparently, Baron had called him. He sat opposite them with Sabian next to him. Both looked rather grim, "So, you've heard about Malfoy's dark predictions too?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded, "About Nekros sending his servants to the match. But Baron reckons that doesn't really make any sense to us since he doesn't have any servants. He always worked alone. So did the other two."

"Sabe," Snape turned to the spirit beside him, "Didn't you tell me once that Nekros was the creator of Dark Creatures."

"Aye, I did."

"O, I do forget!" Baron snapped his fingers as he remembered, "He fathered Boggarts but no worthy army are they, as hast been proven. He is kith and kin with Dementors..."

"_Dementors!_" Snape and Harry shouted at the same time, horrible realisation coming upon them. Sabian looked perplexed so Snape elaborated,

"Sabe, since Sirius Black is on the loose, the Ministry wants to shield Hogwarts from him. They think it possible that Black will try and attack. The only way they can think of is for Hogwarts to be guarded by some of the Dementors..."

"_What?_" the Scottish spirit stood up in anger and panic, "Is the Minister mad? Dementors! I ask you; they'll do anything _but_ protect Hogwarts. And what's Sirius Black got to do with anything?"

"The Dementors guard the Wizard Prison, Azkaban."

"Well, then Dementors are pointless! If he can get past them once, who says he cannae do it again? They will nae remain loyal to the Ministry given the choice between that and Nekros. Nekros is their creator, lord and master. They only answer to him and he can give them more of their rights and their pleasures than the Ministry can with just guarding prisoners."

* * *

Harry struggled against the weather with Baron clinging on to his waist behind him to keep himself on the broom. He was nearly thrown off once or twice. The trouble was that he wasn't very good at flying brooms and was having trouble staying on, let alone keeping up with the motions of it. He had kept his promise and not worn his cloak. He replaced it with a white, fur-lined trenchcoat but it made it no better since the rain practically blinded him. Harry's teeth chattered and Baron held his coat around Harry as well as himself. This shielded his body from the cold very efficiently but did not help to clear his vision.

Baron then spotted the captain motioning Harry down. He called to Harry and he dived down to the ground. Wood told them they were fifty points ahead but, at this rate, if the Snitch wasn't caught soon, they would be playing into the night.

Hermione then hurried over. She did an Impervious charm on Harry's glasses so they would repel water. Baron removed his own glasses, gave them a quick wipe on his sleeve and did the same to them. Baron hopped back onto the broom and Harry got back on. They took off again, this time with full vision, "Thank the heavens; our vision hath come in the form of learned Hermione!" Harry however became distracted. High up in the stands was a gigantic black dog. with shaggy black fur, "What ist?"

"Is that a...Grim?"

"A Grim? O, jackanapes and trickery! Harry, the damselfly is not in earnest. Death omens are naught but a falsehood to charm and torment fools and unknowing maids."

Wood suddenly yelled to Harry. Diggory was heading towards the fluttering Snitch, "Hence, my Harry! Hence!" screamed Baron. Harry spurted his broom forward, going at full pelt, Baron hanging on for dear life. The stadium suddenly went strangely quiet. Baron stiffened, "O, terrible instant!" Draco's prediction had proved correct. Dementors swarmed onto the pitch and a figure was to be seen high in the stands, behind the spectators, out of sight. The glint of metal was enough to tell them who it was.

Baron felt Harry begin to weaken. He quickly swapped places with him and sealed his now unconscious soul into the Moon Medallion for safety. He stopped himself from changing form and turned back to the Snitch. Diggory was distracted by the Dementors and the Snitch was hovering in front of him. Never had he been in a Quidditch match but he knew what he had to do. He lunged for it and managed to close his fingers around it, barely managing to stay on the broom.

No one had noticed however. Dumbledore had strode out onto the pitch. He looked absolutely livid. Baron now knew fully why Harry had so much respect for his headmaster. The man seemed to give off burning heat and his silver hair appeared to be crackling with electricity. He fired one of the strongest Patronuses Baron had ever seen and they sent the Dementors scattering everywhere. Baron was very impressed with this amount of power such an old man possessed.

He turned his eyes back to whom he thought was Nekros. Even though he could not see his face, Baron smirked as his the steps, onto the grounds outside imagination conjured up the look of twisted fury there. He then strode down and out of sight, leaving Baron extremely satisfied. Everyone seemed to be coming back to their senses now. The commentator noticed that Baron had caught the Snitch, "HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

A tumult of noise erupted from the red and gold stands. Baron carefully guided down the broom, just in time before the rest of the Gryffindors engulfed him. _Such animated greeting_, he thought, thinking also that perhaps he should have paid more attention to itThe Weasley twins lifted him up onto their shoulders and they carried him up to the Common Room. They left for a moment and came back with handfuls of party food.

Baron was very impressed with how much they got. _They must be allied with the elves_. He decided to check on Harry. He told the others he was going to be putting away his broomstick. He hurried up to the quiet of the dormitory and descended back into the Moon Medallion. Harry was lying on the bed. He looked seriously pale. He hurried to his side.

Harry stirred feebly. Baron shook him slightly until he woke. He gave him a Chocolate Frog he had saved from the party, "What happened? Who won the match?"

"Gryffindor." Baron swelled up with pride again, "I caught the elusive thing for you. Twas hovering before me to be caught, And, returning was less demanding than thought." At that moment, the door opened and Sabian and Snape came in,

"Ah, I see Harry's alright." Sabian grinned.

"And may I compliment you on your capture, Sir." Baron nodded in gratitude,

"Did you see the headmaster, though? Och, I've nae a man look so riled."

"Neither have I, Sabe. Mind you, Dumbledore hates the Dementors, doesn't he?"

* * *

Winter fast approached and a thick snow began to fall over Hogwarts and the grounds. Twice, Harry got hit over the head with snowballs by a cheeky Sabian, always accompanied by an amused Snape. Baron always fired back and on both occasions, Harry and Snape had to stop them because people were wondering how the snow was balling itself up and flinging itself at thin air. These games, however, were short-lived. Coming up to mid-December, Baron suddenly became a little more docile and more silent. He couldn't even throw any insults at Trelawney. He woke Harry later than normal. And then, he didn't wake Harry at all. But Harry's body seemed to be used to Baron's get-up calls so Harry woke up around that time. He woke up to see a contemplating Baron sitting on the window ledge, looking forlorn.

_How strange_ thought Harry. _Perhaps it's because it's Christmas. Christmas is a time for family after all. Maybe he misses his family. _Harry's mind drifted back to the memory Baron had showed him last Hogsmeade visit. The one where he had watched the child version of Baron and his little brother..._what was his name again?...John, yeah that was it. Funny, Baron seems to be avoiding the issue of his brother. Did something perhaps happen to him? Was Baron involved?_

These unanswerable questions went through his head every day. He daren't ask them. He had a feeling that Baron would not give him a straight answer or else become violent. Another Hogsmeade weekend approached and they were both fully prepared with what they were going to do. They went together to the one-eyed witch statue when all of a sudden, "Psst! Harry!"

Harry whipped round and found Fred and George beckoning to him. Harry and Baron walked over, both perplexed about what they would want just before they were to go to Hogsmeade. Harry asked and Fred just winked, "We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go. Come in here..." He nodded towards a empty classroom. Baron and Harry exchanged looks that said plainly 'What on earth do you think's going on?',

"Early Christmas present for you, Harry!" George handed a square of parchment that he had just produced from under his cloak. It was very blank and very empty. The both of them immediately suspected a joke,

"What's this supposed to be?"

"This, Harry, is the secret to our success."

"It's a wrench, giving it to you but we decided that your needs were greater than ours."

"Anyway, we know it off by heart. We bequeath it to you. We don't really need it any more."

Baron shook his head, "They play us the fool. Are they not doing Loki's work?"  
Not having the faintest idea of who or what Loki was, Harry voiced Baron's scepticism. George acted mortally offended and the both of them launched into the story of how they had stolen it from Filch's office from a cabinet that had read '_Confiscated and Highly Dangerous'_. At this fact, Baron stiffened._ Something marked dangerous should be cautiously received…_Baron thought, narrowing his eyes. He un-narrowed them however when Fred gave the map a tap with his wand and said clearly, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!" Ink lines traced and criss-crossed until it made some kind of map. Green words on top proclaimed:

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief Makers_

_are proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

"By Jove!" Baron's suspicions for the twins vanished instantly as he stared at the map, "Tis Hogwarts portrayed here and, by Hermes!" For he had noticed that the labelled dots representing people were moving. There was Professor Dumbledore pacing his study, Mrs Norris skulking the second floor and Peeves bouncing around the trophy room, "Incredible sight!" Harry just had to agree. He also noticed passages that led right to Hogsmeade. Fred and George told him about all of them and Baron swelled with pride (doing a very good impression of Percy) when they said that his passage, as of yet, was unblocked and undiscovered. He made to take the map but then Fred's hand prevented him. He now had a rather uncharacteristically serious look on his faces,

"And just before we go," Fred said slowly and deliberately, "Harry, we've got a bit of a bone to pick with you."

"Yeah," George was looking at him and speaking the exact same way, "We've been seeing some funny things on the map."

"Like you seem to be constantly in the company of one Gabriel Cinclion."

Baron stiffened. _What map is this. Canst show spirits?_

Fred glared at the map for a moment, "He's meant to have been stone-dead and yet he's in your lessons, in the grounds with you and even on the back of your broom during Quidditch practice. And, look," He pointed at a dot on the map and, to their horror, a clear dot labelled 'Gabriel Cinclion' stood right behind Harry's, "there he is, right now."

"Also," George came forward, "Malfoy has not been on the map for the first two months of term but has been labelled Jean Nekros, who's also meant to have been stone-dead. And, on the night when the Fat Lady was slashed, you came across Nekros. After a bit, you disappeared entirely along with the Nekros guy. There was a dot but no label. Then Snape came and he seemed to be in the company of one Sabian Brunroux."

"Who's meant to have been stone-dead."

"Who has also been constantly in his company ever since then. And also, when the Baron took Ron and Hermione out, they too, after a while, your names disappeared off the map. Just dots. And on the day of the match, the dot labelled Draco Malfoy was replaced with Nekros again. Malfoy disappeared off the map."

"Explain, Harry!" demanded Fred, suddenly stern, "We know that you know."

Harry gulped. _What am I supposed to say? _Baron looked equally worried. Harry gave it a try, "What, really? Oh, I had no idea!"

George shook his head, "Nice try but the truth, please."

"Why are you picking on me?" Harry demanded, "Why don't you go to Snape?"

"We're not asking him!"

"Be collected, Harry." Baron put a hand on his shoulder, taking a step forward, "I wilt turn our fortunes half circle." He then closed his eyes as if concentrating.

Harry then realised Baron, until then, had been a bit blurred. Now his outline was becoming sharper. Harry then realised. He was going to make himself visible to Fred and George. Harry watched as the twins' eyes simultaneously widened. Baron opened his eyes and gave them a hard look and then said,

"I charge you damned for intruding into our business."

He stepped forward. The twins seemed intimidated by Baron, their strict facade vanishing abruptly, nothing compared to the Baron. He advanced on them until he was looking straight down on them. Baron's height passed the twins' by a long way. Baron's hand then glowed a blood red to match his shirt. Fred and George gulped. _Uh oh... _must have crossed their minds at that point. The taller spirit then made a movement with his arm that was so fast that his arm was just a blood-red blur. He had struck both the twins so hard that he had knocked the both of them out. Harry nodded as Baron blurred again, "Nice hit, Baron."

"I thank you. When they wake, no recollection of this encounter will have hence gone." He tapped his nose cheekily, "Now, _we _too must hence, Harry."

* * *

Hogsmeade in winter was picturesque. Just like a Christmas card. Baron smiled in a sad sort of way, "Such a beautiful sight, is it not?" They strolled down the high street and caught sight of Sabian (who was solid) and Snape (who was in spirit form). Baron reasoned that they had probably done the same as them. He then caught sight a graveyard and froze.

Harry noticed Baron had stopped. He hurried back to him,

"What is it, Baron?"

"Wait here, I pray you." his voice sounded strange. Hard to read. He slipped through a gap in the gates of the graveyard and entered. Harry watched him as he pulled up his hood. This made him almost blend in with the snow. He turned a corner and disappeared from sight. _What was Baron doing? Was this something to do with him being suddenly silent over the past few days?_

After a while, Sabian and Severus came around the corner. They saw Harry and went over to him, "Hello there, laddie." Sabian grinned, "Where's Gabriel?"

"He just went in there." he gestured into the graveyard, "He said he'd be back in a minute."

"Och, I see." Sabian suddenly became grim.

"What?" Snape looked a bit confused, "What is it?"

"Today's the day when his little brother John, whom he loved so dearly, died. So did he, in fact. At around the same time. There's nae a person who knows how or what happened. John had been missed for quite a while. Seven years in fact. Tore Gabriel apart and changed him forever. His body just turned up along with Gabriel's. That was also the day Nekros disappeared, oddly enough. The other Dark Sorcerers had been killed by each other by then. Nekros was the only one left and he just...vanished."

"Has he said anything about this to you, Potter?"

"No, sir. In fact," Harry realised, "he hasn't really said much at all lately."

"Och, maybe I should go and have a chat with him. Harry, Severus; you wait for me."

Sabian slipped through the gap just like Baron and hurried up the path. He turned a corner, looking this way and that. The place was a veritable maze of tombs, gravestones and crypts. _How on earth am I supposed to find Gabriel here? _He peered at the tombstones. Well, these are recent ones. Maybe the ones from the seventeen hundreds are somewhere around the back. He hurried up, sometimes cutting across the frozen ground and over the snow that had fallen thick onto the earth. He gazed around as he reached a tombstone of a person who had died in 1707. _Getting closer._

Suddenly, he spotted him. He was almost invisible with his white cloak and hood that blended almost perfectly with the snow and the white marble tomb in front of him. Sabian slowed down as he walked up to him. He was standing stock still next a dead black tree and gazing down at the name on the tomb. It looked like he had had to brush away the snow to see it. It read 'Johnathan Nathaniel Cinclion'. Sabian put a sympathetic hand on Baron's shoulder,

"Many years have passed since John's death, Gabriel. Maybe it might be high time you stopped thinking about it."

"My mind agrees, Sabe." he gave a hollow, mirthless laugh at this point, "Agreement doth always favour your advice," his humour vanished in an instant, "but to say goodbye; tis a lengthy and painful task."

The Councillor nodded wisely and then became serious, "Gabriel, forgive me asking but how did you and John die? There's nae a person who knows how."

Baron stiffened. He didn't even seem to want to look at Sabian. He had seen this kind of behaviour in Baron before. He had acted the same way when he had heard about John going missing, "Gabriel..." He tried to take hold of his face but it was jerked away from him, "Gabriel...you can trust your old Councillor. I will nae tell anyone." Gabriel sighed. He suddenly looked like the years he had endured were having an impact on him. It wasn't right since it looked like he was only in his twenties,

"Sabian." He raised his eyebrows. Baron had never called him by his full name, "you know these flighty and wrecking hostilities hath transformed my fragile heart. Before the war, twas was more carefree...more of child...more foolish..."

"Aye, you were a wee terror!" he joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. But Baron wasn't in the mood,

"Death hath laid change my heart further. The child I was; ist no more. His mistakes wilt ne'er be repeated. To be betrayed shall do more injury to my heart than a knife's point. Sabian," he turned to him, his face very solemn, "The secret of mine and John's death is mine; ne'er to be told to anyone. Not now. All shalt be reveal'd at the right time. At time such when my heart is stronger, you shalt know. Do you comprehend me?"

Sabian nodded. He then whispered, "Come on. Severus and Harry are waiting for us outside."

He put an arm around Baron, who still looked very solemn, and led him back the way he came.

* * *

A/N: Okay, bit of a depressing chapter. By the way, Loki was the Norse God of Mischief so, when Baron referred to the twins doing Loki's work, he meant that they're being mischievious. 


	11. Terrors

A/N: Hi! Well, both stories and school are going well. You wouldn't think so, considering that I'm in A Level year! But it's true.

**cyiusblack: **Once again, your wish is my command!

**Twin Tails Speed: **Once again, thank you very much!

**Bundibird: **Oh, thank heavens! You're back!

_Baron: Glad tidings more that she did leave me without perishing any hair of mine. She did apportune me with pity of my poor soul's mourning..._

Leonette: Alright, Hamlet. Enough of your moping. Anyway, back to Bundibird, don't worry about the chatter review. I was just glad to hear from you and I've revised Baron's speech a bit to make it more consistant as you asked. All else you asked will be revealed in good time (smiles mysteriously).

Now, for the chapter and, guess who's back! NEKROS!

_Baron: Must you appear so joyful to see such a villain return?_

Leonette: I'm not happy to see him, Baron. It was just emphasis.

_Baron: One you will not see in this chapter is I! What travesty is this!_

Leonette: Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it?

_Baron: Hence you to my agent! Complain to the villainous shrew who wrote this!_

Leonette: That 'villainous shrew' would be standing right next to you, 'thou most blithering idiot'! And I'm starting this chapter now before you start moping again!

* * *

Chapter 11: Terrors

Baron lightened up over Christmas. He joined in the festivities and was perfectly cheerful once more (by his standards. To say that Baron was a jovial person would be untrue). To their great surprise, Harry had received a Firebolt from an unknown person ("By Jove!" Baron had cried when he saw it) but hadn't told anyone. He had also been very surprised to receive a present from Sabian and Snape. Harry supposed that Sabe had forced him to because Snape had only signed his name on the label.

But after the Christmas break, a terrible surprise awaited them. No sooner had the rest of the school sat down to breakfast on the first day, Filch ran up the aisle to Dumbledore, looking as though he could kill. They didn't have long to wait to find out what was the problem, "_VANDALISM!_" he roared, no sooner had he flung the doors up, "_GRAFFITI AND BEFOULMENT! THOSE LITTLE WHELPS HAVE DONE IT NOW! MADE A MESS OF THE WHOLE CASTLE!_"

"_Argus!_" cried McGonagall, "_Please compose yourself!_"

"What has happened?" came the calm authoritative voice of Dumbledore. Now, everyone's attention was on Filch, who stood there panting, thinking of how best to phrase the situation,

"All over the castle," he growled, with the air of someone reporting a murder, "someone's scribbled all over the walls!"

Snape glared at him with the Moon Eye. Immediately, a picture of the painted walls from Filch's memory appeared in his mind..._oh, no_...

"What did they 'scribble'?" McGonagall's lips were white,

"Somethin' funny." he growled, frowning, "Come and 'ave a look at the damage yourself."

* * *

The students didn't have long to wait to see what Filch was talking about. For, as soon as the bell went and everyone scurried to their classrooms, they saw the words scrawled in sky-blue paint on the walls: '_Shibo ad junsui na sanguis. Shibo ad bokenes_' in all different sizes, in almost every corridor, on doors, even on desks in classrooms. A sixth year taking History of Magic realised what it was and had said, a little louder than he'd intended, "That's Count Jean de Nekros's motto! One of the Dark Exiled! 'Death to the purebloods. Death to the tyrants', that's what it says!"

As things did at Hogwarts, this had spread like wild-fire. Slytherins, in particular, were terrified and confused. They walked around in tight-knot groups; as though afraid the graffitist would suddenly spring out and attack. They asked themselves, "How on earth could anyone have a grudge against purebloods?"

"Surely, Mudbloods are the ones in the wrong!"

"Purebloods haven't done anything wrong!" They had a right to worry. The slogan was written most in the dungeons, in clear view of Slytherins, in the Common Room, in dormitories and, to their horror the next day, the Slytherin house table,

"But then, it had to be a Slytherin. No one else knows our password!"

"But Slytherin's a pureblood house!"

Snape had to suppress a laugh whenever he heard this. _Pureblood house, indeed! What would they say if they found out I was a halfblood?_

The persecution of Slytherins went on; the message was always replaced whenever Filch washed it off, angry letters from parents demanded an explanation, members of the Magical Law Enforcement were called in to investigate and the teachers assured all pupils that the one responsible would be expelled. However, catching the culprit proved to be more dangerous than expected. For, every night, the people on watch all around the castle were found knocked out cold with the repeated slogan painted on their clothes, with nothing to go on but 'a cold, empty feeling'.

On the seventh night, a determined but frightened Hermione Granger sat on her sleeping bag in the Great Hall, huddled next to Ron. Both of them had solidly decided that they would stay in the Great Hall and catch the graffiti artist in the act. Being on adventures with Harry had given them new courage and they felt that it had to be done.

They were both hiding beneath the Gryffindor table with a flask of hot soup and Harry's borrowed Invisibility Cloak around their shoulders to keep them from the cold. For the Great Hall was uncharacteristically cold that night with no fires or candles lit and the frosty January air outside.

It was ten o'clock and Ron was already missing his bed when a soft _flump_ brought their attention. They were certain that, now, the graffiti artist was about to appear. They peeped round from under the tablecloth and saw the wizard on watch outside the Great Hall unconscious, flat on the floor. There were a pair of legs; someone was standing over him.

Hermione drew her wand cautiously and gave Ron a little poke to make him do the same. A cold voice spoke, slightly echoed, "So tedious. Don't know why they bother." The legs stepped over the unconscious wizard and came into the light from one of the windows. Shining metal armour covered his legs and feet completely and they could hear the sound of metal armour as the man moved up the centre aisle. He came right past their hiding place, making their hearts and breath stop for a moment but he paid them no attention.

Hermione poked Ron again and the both of them covered themselves with the Cloak and crept out to stand near the wall. A man in full armour and a blue surcoat was striding over the Headmaster's podium. The great curled horns on his helmet gleamed in the moonlight, as did his long, unkempt hair. At first, they wondered why he was going there and then, they realised that someone else had appeared.

A boy, half naked, his white chest gleaming, and pale hair, that was sleek but slightly tousled from sleep, was tied to the podium by his wrists and on his knees. His head was lolling so they couldn't see his face but they knew instantly who it was, "_How come we didn't notice Malfoy here?_" hissed Ron out of the corner of his mouth. Hermione shrugged and pressed a finger to her lips. Any noise might attract the attention of the man in armour.

But the man was not distracted. He lowered himself to Malfoy and shook him, "Wakey, wakey, Draco!" He sang, his voice echoing slightly within his helmet. The boy stirred feebly, not quite knowing where he was. When he raised his head, Hermione noticed that he looked paler than before, almost grey, a little like Lupin. Dark shadows had appeared under his eyes, that looked almost dead. As soon as he saw the man in front of him, he panicked,

"No..." he moaned, "...no...not again, please...I beg of you...I've done this for a week..."

"_Is the ickle baby tired?_" jeered the man in armour, in a mock baby voice that made Malfoy's cheeks flush, "_Is it past his bedtime?_ We are not resting, Draco." He changed back to his normal voice, pushing his face close to Malfoy's and grabbed him by the hair, making his head jerk up, "They're not resting so why should we?"

"But they've cleaned it off..."

"Then, do it again." The man stated, as if this was obvious, "We've got to make the message sink in. But, before that," He pulled back Malfoy's head so his neck was ominously bared, "I want you to meet some of my children."

He dropped Malfoy's head. Then, he got up and went over to a door behind the staff table, "Come along, my dainties." No sooner had he opened the door, a cold feeling swept over them both and Hermione, realising what it was, clutched Ron in fright, "Say hello to my boy-slave." Rattling breaths filled the room and about a dozen Dementors swarmed in, gliding over the stone floor, feeling their way forward. They gathered in a tight-knot group in front of the man,

"Majesty Nekros..." rasped one, and this was echoed by the rest, in that same voice that sounded almost like the voice of Death itself,

"Majesty Nekros..."

"_Nekros_?" Ron frowned, "_They think he's Nekros?_"

Nekros seemed to love the sight of them, as though watching his children take their first steps. Malfoy, who'd craned his neck around and seen them, gasped in horror and looked positively terrified when Nekros pointed straight at him, "Dinner." As one, the Dementors swarmed to Malfoy, who was visibly quaking with fear.

Hermione wanted desperately to run out from under the Cloak and try to fend the Dementors off but she didn't know how. All she could do was watch hopelessly as Malfoy was obscured from sight by a wall of Dementors, making a circle around him, feeding off his positive emotions. Occasionally, she'd see one lean in as if for a closer look. Ron was shaking his head, clutching his wand and glaring at Nekros, who'd settled himself in the Headmaster's chair and now sitting there like a king.

After an agonising few moments, Nekros demanded the Dementors to part and Malfoy was revealed, looking even paler than before. He looked very ill; almost as though he were going to faint or be sick. As Nekros strode toward him, he drew out a large feather with the top half covered in familiar blue paint and a small one with the same paint. Again, he pulled back Malfoy's neck, almost as if he were going to slit his throat, and whispered, "Will you write my motto on the walls?"

"_**His**_ _motto_?" hissed Ron, bewildered,

"No." Malfoy moaned. Nekros made no move but, if they could see his face, they guessed he might have pulled a face of shock. He pushed his face closer to his neck, so the mouth might be close to his neck,

"_Excuse me_?" He whispered, venomously, obviously saying 'wrong answer',

"...I won't..." Malfoy replied, in a begging tone they'd not heard before, "...not now..._please_ let me rest..."

The Dementors were starting to look excited; they were flexing their hands and moving around on the spot. Nekros let go of Malfoy's face and stood still for a moment, probably looking the boy up and down. After that. he grabbed Malfoy by the hair again and said, in a low voice of fury,

"_You've been talking with the Baron, haven't you_?" He growled,

"No! I haven't!" Malfoy's terrified squeak was as good as a confession,

"_After I specifically forbade to talk to him, you disobeyed me_!" The Dementors were gathering to Nekros, as if waiting for more orders, now more excited than ever. They were not disappointed; Nekros released Malfoy again and turned to them, "All of you gather your brethren and take them down to the Slytherin Common Room and dormitories. You will feast tonight!"

"NO!" wailed Malfoy, now terrified, but it was pointless. Nekros turned to the quaking boy,

"Didn't I warn you at the beginning?" he said, smoothly, "Didn't I tell you that, if you ever refused, I'd do something to your little Slytherin friends? Didn't I tell him that, my dainties?" He asked the Dementors. As one, they rasped,

"You did...Majesty Nekros..."

"You're eager. Good. You there!" He grasped one Dementor at the front's wrist, "You stay with me. The rest of you; _feast_!"

The Dementors swept out of the room, heading for the grounds to fetch the others. Nekros turned to the Dementor he'd demanded to stay, "You will feed on the boy." Malfoy gave a small gasp of fright, "Do a good job, now. _Squeeze_ every last drop out of him. See if he still refuses after that!"

It was an awful sight to watch. The creature glided over to Malfoy as Nekros settled himself in Dumbledore's chair again to watch. The Dementor took hold of Malfoy's face with both its slimy, rotted hands, forced it up and took a long, deep breath. So close was it, that it could kiss him. Nekros watched idly as Malfoy suffered, giving the occasional despairing moan. Several long breaths later, the doors of the castle opened again and Hermione covered her mouth to stop the scream. A long stream of Dementors, seemingly endless, rushed past them. All heading straight to the dungeons.

When this stream had ended, Nekros stood, "That's enough." He told the Dementor and then, said in a tone like telling a child it could go out and play, "Now, go and join the others." The Dementor immediately swept from the room without a backward glance. As the little warmth present returned to the room, Ron and Hermione crept closer to get a good look at Malfoy.

It was then they noticed that he was a good deal thinner than they thought he would be; his ribs were visible and there was little muscle on his arms. The poor boy was not limp; he could still support himself but his head drooped slightly. He wasn't crying, though he looked like he had before. But he bore the look of one who did not know where he was or what to do.

This hopelessness made Hermione see him in a whole new light. She'd forgotten he was Draco Malfoy; he was gone. There was no sign of the Draco Malfoy they knew for two years. Now he was just an ill blond boy, a victim of a brutal man. Nekros strode over to him and lowered himself again,

"Now, will you write?"

"Yes." Malfoy said, in a low, hopeless voice, "Please, call off the attack."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Draco." Nekros shook his head, "Who am I to deny the Dementors the feast they deserve? Stopping them now could be deemed as cruelty. You know," he moved around Malfoy so his back was to the invisible pair and added, putting on a sorrowful tone that just sounded a lot worse from his mouth, "I'm not a cruel person, Draco dearest. It's just you always disobey me and I have to lay down the law. If you only obeyed me without resisting, life would be a lot easier for both of us."

Then, he reached into his armour and drew out a small phial. Pulling out the cork, he held it in Malfoy's line of vision. Immediately, Malfoy turned away from it, "_Please_, not again." He said, somewhere between a moan and a wail,

"Take your medicine like a good boy." Nekros ordered, like a stern mother. Malfoy shook his head, still keeping his mouth firmly shut, "No? _Imperio._" Despite Nekros's lack of wand, Malfoy's eyes slid out of focus and his mouth loosened. Slowly, as if in a dream, he raised his head and opened his mouth, ready,

"_That's the Controlling Curse_!" hissed Hermione,

"There's a good boy." Nekros crooned, as he poured about half of the bottle into Malfoy's mouth. The boy swallowed it submissively and then, Nekros broke the curse. Instantly, Malfoy choked. His face turned white and he tried to gag but it was too late. Nekros's face was invisible but Hermione had the feeling that he was smirking, "Remarkable, isn't it? How purebloods are very like poison."

"_Poison_?" Ron repeated, under his breath, horrified.

Malfoy began to writhe and twitch in agony. He screamed, terrified and pleading for help. But Nekros just walked around him, his hand on Malfoy's neck, "Can feel it, Draco? This is what happens if purebloods are allowed to rule. They worm their ideals and thoughts into the wizarding world, through the important parts, like the poison now in your veins, polluting the whole society." Malfoy's breathing became short and gasping, as though he was drowning, "The wizarding world soon crumbles from the inside, crushing all that is whole and good. And then more come." He forced the boy's mouth up and poured the rest in. Malfoy tried to gag but a thump on the back soon put an end to that plan, "They will kill the wizarding world itself...unless...someone would get rid of them." He snapped his fingers and Malfoy slumped, panting and wheezing.

Nekros smiled and lowered himself to Malfoy's level again, "Now, doesn't that feel better?" he said, casually, and then, put on a venomous, silky voice, not unlike Lucius Malfoy's, "Does it hurt to know that you are one of those individuals who besmirch a peaceful society? But don't think you're a disgrace to the world just because of your lineage. No, I will not sink to your level and say you are at fault just for that."

He ran his hands over Malfoy's chest and leaned in closer to the boy's face, "I've seen what you've done. I'm inside your head. Telling on Hagrid and Potter just to try and get rid of them, buying your way onto the Slytherin Quidditch team with your father's filthy money even when you haven't a shred of talent and, worst of all, supporting the Heir of Slytherin when he attacked Muggleborns. In fact, discriminating Muggleborns altogether. And that was just at Hogwarts. Oh, Draco, shame on you!" It sounded ten times as bad when Nekros was saying it, "You are nothing but a snivelling, cowardly, nasty little whelp. If brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley."

Malfoy flushed. Being on the receiving end of this insult felt a lot worse than he thought it would. What made him really feel bad was that he'd given that insult himself. He lowered his head,

"Getting it, now, are we? But, as for me, I blame the parents. Your mother, for one; sticking up her nose at any passing Muggleborns, supporting those ungodly Death-Eaters and helping the Ministry pass an incredibly unfair Anti-Werewolf Legislation. Despicable!" He spat, shaking his head, "What is worse; she actually commends you for discriminating actions. Did you seriously think that made them right when Mummy approved? Even when Mummy was a false, snobbish, conceited daughter of a dog?" Malfoy's face was now bright red with shame,

"Ah, now you're getting the right idea. Ashamed of your own family? Good...Now, don't get me started on your father. Giving the Ministry insincere money just to get in the Minister's favour, slipping an extremely Dark Object into an innocent girl's cauldron in the hope of discrediting the Weasleys and Dumbledore and...oh, this is the worst...actually being a Death-Eater and enjoying it. Enjoying torturing innocent people. Enjoying killing harmless Muggles. _Enjoying polluting the wizarding world with his twisted ideals_. And _you_ look up to him as a role model? That brutal, arrogant sneak whose swollen head can be seen from Saturn and is yet completely empty."

Malfoy was crying. In his hopeless state, he was realising that Nekros had a point, "I am the only one who sees the only good use for you. Do you know what that is, Draco?" Silence, "_Slavery._ Now," The man held up the two feathers, "first, write the slogan twenty times with the large and twenty times with the small on the table before quarter to eleven. Just like last time. This is the last day of _junsui na sanguis._ Tomorrow, you will write _Shibo ad kitanai sanguis. _Death to the Mudbloods."

Hermione glared at him. _How can his ideals change like that?_

The ropes binding Malfoy unravelled themselves and floated in the air for second before transforming into a long, thin, deadly-looking whip. Malfoy stood up, took the feathers and, with the same forlorn air, he approached the Slytherin table little by little. This, apparently, was too slow. The whip cracked and Malfoy let out a cry of pain, "It won't get done at that pace!" snapped Nekros, "Any more signs of slacking and it's a dozen of the best."

Malfoy dragged himself faster and began to paint the cleaned table. He was only wearing trousers and socks; he looked like he might have fallen asleep in his clothes (which wouldn't surprise them). It was bitterly cold in the Great Hall and Nekros only made it worse by saying, "I'll open some windows. It's a bit stuffy in here."

"_Probably 'cos of that armour_." muttered Ron, bitterly,

Nekros obviously didn't think so. With a flick of the hand, the windows swung open, letting in the strong cold wind outside. Malfoy's breath came up as steam in front of him, he coughed pathetically and, as a cloud behind the moon moved away and the light grew brighter, Hermione had to throw her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry of horror and disgust. Malfoy's skin on his back was split neatly not once, not twice but about ten times on his back. The skin around them was an angry red. The wounds themselves, that showed no signs of healing, were open, red and inflamed, looking horribly infected. The new wound from the whip was bleeding and that seemed to set off the others. Blood soaked the back of his trousers, making an ugly dark stain. But still Malfoy wrote those awful words on the tables and benches.

Hermione and Ron moved carefully around the tables and had a look at Malfoy's face. It looked worse than ever close up. He looked like he had no blood left at all in his face. Sweat was appearing on his forehead despite his shivers; showing that he had a fever and tears were rolling down his cheeks.

As one, they moved away from him, since Nekros was tailing Malfoy, holding the whip ready. They fully intended to go and get Dumbledore but then, a sudden cold blackness swallowed their vision and they knew no more.

* * *

Next thing they knew, they were back under the Gryffindor table and they heard voices in the room, "What happened?" Ron wondered, as he began to poke his head over the bench. But, just as Hermione looked up, a face appeared in front of them, making her scream in fright,

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall was peering under the table, her spectacles near falling off at the sight of them. Ron and Hermione guiltily got out, finding Professor Dumbledore and half a dozen of the Watch Wizards congregated. One especially energetic one instantly pointed at them,

"Caught!" He shouted, gleefully, "These are the ones behind it - "

"I doubt very much that Mr Weasley or Miss Granger had anything to do with any of this." Dumbledore interrupted, calmly. Feeling she ought to explain, Hermione stuttered,

"W-we were just trying to g-get a look at w-who did it."

The Watch Wizards immediately stood alert as though their commanding officer had just shouted 'attention'. Dumbledore leaned forward, surveyed them for a moment and then said, "I'm afraid that these two would like to talk to me alone. Will the rest of you please go and examine the damage in the other corridors?" So there had been more. Hermione dreaded to think how much Nekros had forced Malfoy to do, even when he was ill. Perhaps he'd used the Imperious Curse on him again. _Oh, why didn't we try and defend him?_

Once the hall was empty apart from them, Dumbledore led them through the door the Dementors had come out of the previous night and into a room with an empty fireplace. Dumbledore drew three chairs with his wand and motioned them to sit down. Immediately, Ron launched into the story of what they'd seen the previous night. Hermione joined in too and Dumbledore was given an accurate account of what had happened between Nekros and Malfoy,

"…And he'd been whipped before, sir! We saw all the wounds and they'd been all infected. He looked so ill; Nekros must have made him go without sleep! We were going to fetch you but Nekros must have seen us and knocked us out."

Dumbledore sat there in front of them, very grave and very worried, "Your story would fit the Dementor attack on the Slytherin Common Room. Luckily, Professor Snape managed to put them under control with the help of a friend called Sabian. The injuries Mr Malfoy was found to have this morning are exactly the same too. Sad to say the poor boy has been taken to the Hospital Wing about half an hour ago with whip-wounds, a deathly fever and evidence showing he'd been put under the Cruciatus torture curse."

"_Cruciatus?_" Hermione cried, horrified. She, of course, had come across Cruciatus in a book and knew what it could do. Ron too had heard of it and looked stunned,

"I think it a good time to visit Mr Malfoy in the hospital wing. Come. Both of you. You may use the Invisibility Cloak." And the Cloak appeared from behind his back, "The rest of your things have been taken back to Gryffindor tower." They covered themselves with the Cloak and followed Dumbledore out of the room and into the Great Hall. People had started to pour in for breakfast. The Slytherins looked pale and shaken and not just by the finished writing on the table. The story of the Dementor attack was just beginning to spread.

* * *

A/N (sobs) Poor Draco! Why do I call myself one of his fans when I make him suffer so?

_Baron: (stares at her as though she'd gone mad) Too much council with my person has made her speakest so._

Leonette: No, I've just been reading too much Shakespeare. Anyway, for all you Baron fans, fret ye not. 'He shall returneth in most glorious manner when next chapter doth come.' If school doesn't get in the way and I've got the feeling it will soon. And if writing Baron's speech isn't too much of a challenge.

_Baron: (aside) The lady doth protest too much, methinks..._


	12. The New Fighters

A/N: OMG, what the heck is this? Two updates in two days! Unheard of! Bundibird will be pleased when she comes back! 

**cyiusblack: **I've really made your wish come true now!

**Twin Tails Speed**: Hope you appreciate the quick update and think this as excellent as the others.

**silver4fire:** Thanks for the alert and fave! Each fave, alert and review makes Baron less depressed.

_Baron: Your good responses to my existance brings great joy to my dainty heart._

Leonette: Okay, now Baron's had his say; on with the chapter!

Power of the Moon

Chapter 12: The New Fighters

They reached the hospital wing to find screens around Malfoy's bed and Madam Pomfrey bustling around him. Dumbledore pulled aside the screens and allowed the both of them to enter. But the matron, it seemed, could not do much for him. Hermione gave a small cry of horror. If possible, he looked worse than ever. He was lying on his stomach with his torso almost completely covered in bandages. These too were almost completely red with blood soaked through.

He was facing them but they both felt like they'd rather not. His face was screwed up as though he was having a nightmare and he was babbling quietly, whimpering slightly. Every now and again, he'd try and raise his hand but Madam Pomfrey pulled it down. His whole body writhed under bonds as though he were being tortured. It was a terrible sight to see,

"Headmaster!" cried Madam Pomfrey, as she bound his hand with a strap. She looked like she was at her wit's end, "I don't know who or what could have done this but whatever gave him those wounds used Dark Magic. They won't heal and, unless I keep the bandages on, they won't stop bleeding! And he's got such a fever too! We'll have to call St Mungo's or he'll die!"

Suddenly, there was a sound of the doors bursting open behind them. Madam Pomfrey went for a peep around the screens but the person reached them before her. The screens were pulled back and the dark haired boy from Hogsmeade stood panting, his whole body heaving as though he'd run a marathon. Madam Pomfrey immediately recognised him, "Baron! How did you know...?"

"Question not." Baron panted, seeing Malfoy's state and blanching, "Look to the boy!"

"Wait!" Madam Pomfrey seemed to remember something. She hurried through the screens and returned with a silver box with a crescent moon inside a circle carved into it, "I was told to give this to you when you came today. Apparently only you will know what to do with it." Baron, curious, took the box (very nearly bumping into Ron and Hermione as he moved around the bed).

He opened it and his eyes widened. What he took out was a crystal (not glass), jewelled bottle with an sapphire for a stopper. The turquoise blue liquid inside sparkled like sunlight on the sea, so brightly that one might have thought there were actual tiny jewels inside. After putting it close to his eye, Baron seemed to recognise it, "_Callais Marinus_..." he breathed.

It appeared that Baron did know what to do with it. He rushed to Draco's bedside and sat between bonds close to the wounds. He took out a small knife and began to cut the bandages away from Malfoy's back. Madam Pomfrey gave a start at this, "Now, see here! What do you think you're doing? Those need to stay on! He'll start bleeding again!" And he did. No sooner were they uncovered, blood started oozing out of them, running over his body. It seemed that Nekros had given Draco many 'dozen of the bests' for many new, fresh wounds were uncovered.

Baron paid no attention to this but unstopped the bottle and poured some of the Callais Marinus onto his angry red wounds. The liquid was like water but still glittered in the early morning sunlight from the windows. Holding the bottle with his right, Baron began to gently massage the liquid into his skin as if it was lotion. And indeed, his skin absorbed it quickly and, in two minutes there was no trace of it. Dumbledore watched the process with rapt interest.

After two repeats of this, Hermione noticed something happening. The wounds had stopped bleeding, the skin looked less inflamed and signs of infection were vanishing. Days of healing passed by in seconds as the wounds closed up healthily. In fact, after the seventh time Baron did this (the bottle was nearly empty by now), there were no wounds. Not even scars. Just a bare, snow-white back, on snow-white, bloodless sheets.

Baron set the bottle down and, at a flick of the wrist, the bonds fell off. They weren't needed, for now the boy was so still and so silent that Hermione thought for a moment that he was dead. Carefully, Baron turned Draco over onto his back. His face was still a little fevered but he looked almost back to normal, "Wake," Baron laid a golden-brown hand on Draco's head, speaking quietly and gently, "good Draco. Morning doth shine upon our faces."

Madam Pomfrey gave a start when Draco moaned feebly and opened his eyes. They still were pink at the edges but, no sooner had he seen Baron, became alive with delight. He didn't say anything but his delighted smile said more than words ever could. Hermione quite liked that smile. It made Draco look almost likeable,

"You art well?" Baron asked, kindly,

"My head is very sore. I feel so weak but there's nothing else wrong with me. It's strange," he moved a hand around to feel his back, "I can't feel anything on my back." Then, he realised his wounds were healed, "Baron," he breathed, incredulously, "did you...?" But Baron's smile was enough to answer Draco's unasked question.

Draco then looked around to see who else was in the room, lifting his head only a little as though that was all he could manage. He took in Madam Pomfrey with no anxiety but jumped a little at the sight of Dumbledore. Baron too turned his eyes on him. No sooner had he given him an examining look, his dark eyes narrowed. Hermione was puzzled. _Didn't Baron trust Dumbledore?_ Ron jumped when Baron's eyes turned on them, looking right at them as though he could see right through the Cloak,

"Leave us a while." He addressed those present. Madam Pomfrey nodded,

"I have to go and check the other Slytherins involved in the attack." And she bustled out of the screens and out of the room. Dumbledore too left the screened-off area but lingered outside. Hermione and Ron wanted to stay put but a glare from Baron made them scurry out. Dumbledore turned to them,

"I think it wise to go down to breakfast now. Please swear to me that you will not mention what you saw to anyone. Not even Harry or me."

"I swear." They both said, before hastening away, pulling off the cloak as they went.

After casting spells so Dumbledore would hear nothing of what was going on inside the area, Baron turned back to Draco and saw, with a little jolt, that his eyes were swimming with tears, "Baron..." he moaned, "...oh, Baron...I wanted to tell you...I really did...but I couldn't say anything in front of Potter...I didn't know how else to find you..._it was me, Baron_! I wrote that awful saying on the wall...but-but I didn't mean to..." He began to cry in earnest, "...I d-didn't want to..._he_ made me...he bound me in the Great Hall...set the Dementors on me...and told me to write it...when I refused...he s-set the Dementors on Slytherin..."

Seeing Draco's distress, Baron kindly slipped an arm under his shoulders and lifted him into a sitting posistion. Draco leaned into his chest, raising a hand to grip Baron's white cloak. Taking this as a signal, Baron took the corner of his cloak and gently wrapped it around the stricken boy, "I trust your word, Draco. Its honesty would have moved good Harry's heart to aid you."

"I don't mean it like that..." moaned Draco, in between sobs, "...I mean that he'd-he'd tell Dumbledore as soon as he found out it was me...Dumbledore's more likely to believe Potter than me...I'm going to be _expelled_!" He suddenly wailed, "I left blood all over the place...they're going to find out I did it...and-and what'll everyone think of me?"

"Draco," The sound of his name silenced him enough to let Baron talk, though he still despairingly sobbed into Baron's shirt, "That villain, Nekros," a small flinch from Draco, "will have cleared you of this deed with water; an messenger imprisoned shalt not serve him behind doors. Why; the Headmaster and Harry have more heart than you do condemn them! Noble Harry: he would lend his ear to your elucidation. Kindly Dumbledore: Slytherins are held just as great in his heart. Both would aid you." Baron leaned in closer and whispered, "_I will aid you._"

"I know..." Draco nodded, his sobs becoming less frequent, "...only I can't see any hope; he'll still make me...He was so angry when I found out I'd been talking with you..."

"I will deal with the villain but leave all talk of this now."

Baron then noticed that Draco was massaging his left wrist. Baron pushed back the sleeve to reveal a long, half-healed cut, "I'm scared of myself, Baron. Yesterday, I cut myself with the quill and I actually felt better!"

Baron nodded, undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, "Injuries of skin doth heal those of soul. Though, for only a moment." He showed Draco his scars. Draco gasped as he stared at them all. _Were those all done by Baron himself?_

"There are...so many...how? Why?"

Baron felt a little more relaxed talking to Draco so he decided to open up a little. He would not to tell the whole story but he would say all he could, "My brother. One terrible night when thunder lashed and lightning fell, my father had made so merry that he was sullen and brutal. He had oft wronged John without cause and he did cast my poor brother into the night, shutting the gates upon him..."

Draco gasped again. _How could anyone do something like that?_ "What happened then? Did you find him?" but Draco had a feeling he knew what the answer was going to be,

Baron sighed, some of his grief catching up with him, "Never. Ne'er did I cease my tormented wanderings. Day turned into night. Into weeks. Into months. Into years. My agonising wait; futile. My fearful searches; in vain. Ne'er did I look upon him until Death had raught him..."

"I'm sorry, Baron." Draco looked up at Baron,

Baron pulled down his sleeves again and tried a smile, "Great favour you hath done me in lending your ear. But past must not hinder present." Then, Baron's hand made its way to Draco's, still clasped on his cloak, and closed around it. Before he knew it, he'd raised it to his lips and kissed it.

Draco stiffened. Baron, suddenly realising what he was doing, quickly dropped Draco's hand, "I beseech your pardon," _How could I have made such a blunder? _"John and I gave thus mark. Kissing our hands was a message of our love." _But he is Draco! What fool I be!_

Then, he felt someone's hand close around his. He looked down and saw that it was Draco. Slowly, and rather nervously, the boy pulled Baron's hand towards his mouth. Baron gave a small gasp as Draco pressed his lips briefly to the knuckles. Baron gave the boy a glowing, grateful smile.

With that, he gently wiped away the tears from Draco's face and reached over to the bedside table. A glass appeared at his command and he poured the last of the Callais Marinus into it. Even though the bottle was nearly empty, the liquid filled nearly all of the glass. He picked up and held it so Draco could see it,

"Oh..." He breathed, gazing at it, mesmerised by the sparkling blue,

"Wilt it please you to drink?" Baron asked him.

Draco looked up at him, puzzled, "What is it? Is it alright to drink?"

"Of course."

"Well," He looked unsure for a moment but then, "I almost feel as if I could."

And so, Baron gently tilted Draco's head back and let him drink, little by little. Always letting him swallow the first small mouthful before allowing him more. To Draco, this was the sweetest and most refreshing thing he'd ever tasted, soothing his hot, fevered head and aching insides like water on a fire and also making him feel at ease and exhausted. After a few minutes, the glass was empty, which Baron made vanish. Draco himself smiled up at Baron, then, leaned into Baron's chest with closed eyes and began breathing peacefully, a shade of the smile still on his face. There was no sound in the room except for Draco's slow, deep breathing.

Slowly, and with the utmost care, he lowered the boy back into bed and pulled the sheets up to his shoulders. Draco's limp pale hand was still in Baron's; who laid it across his rather frail body. Baron stroked this hand. The Callais Marinus, while it worked on healing Draco's internal injuries, had given him something very precious. Sleep without dreams, to truly let his mind, body and soul rest in silent slumber. Callais Marinus had given him what he needed most after his ordeal: peace. _Ah, Draco. _Baron thought, ruefully, gazing into Draco's calm face, _how I envy you._

Baron, upon raising his head, realised that Dumbledore was still outside. He stood and strode out of the screened area, leaving Draco lying silent but serene, pale but peaceful. He closed the screens and faced the old Headmaster, "Lo, a weak guise. Did you not accomplish better before, Nekros?"

"I wasn't intending to hide from you." The beard retracted, the hair coloured and lengthened slightly, the skin became firm and black, the long robes turned to steely armour and the face was covered with a horned helmet. Nekros stood before him, his hands on his hips and his head to one side, "I just wanted to let Ron and Hermione think they'd told someone in authority about this." He gave a sigh of exaggerated sorrow, "What they would think if it continued even when Dumbledore was told? I daresay they might start losing faith in their dear Headmaster..."

"Where is the Headmaster?" Baron glared, though his staff was nowhere to be seen,

"Oh, he's just having a bit of a lie-in." Nekros waved a hand airily, "He'll be up and about in half-an-hour; never fear. In any case," Before Baron could stop him, Nekros had pulled the screens aside and marched over to Draco, "oh..." Seeing Draco, he looked quite disappointed, clearly hoping he was awake so he could torture him a bit more, "...Draco is asleep." He then picked up the now empty crystal bottle, "Callais Marinus; haven't seen that in a while."

Baron closed the screens behind him, still glaring at Nekros. Seeing no answer from Baron, Nekros began to stroll around Draco's bed, "You remember the Oracles, Baron? The powerful Unspeakable, his gypsy wife and their four 'madcap' daughters." He settled himself, one leg over the other, on the edge of Draco's bed, "You remember Topaz, the third eldest? She was awfully good at making things despite her being blind. She used to make unctions like Callais Marinus, didn't she?" He then laughed, "Listen to me! Relating long lost memories! I'm becoming almost as sentimental as you, Baron!"

Baron did not want Nekros here one second longer, "What business brings you here?"

"Bargaining." Nekros looked up at Baron, holding the bottle with one finger sticking out, "You love Draco, don't you, Baron? I heard you talking to him. Don't think your spells had any effect. You confided in him what you told no one else. You even went so far as to kiss his hand." He stood up, throwing the bottle aside (that, for some reason, did not break), hands on hips, "He isn't John, you know. He isn't your brother. Oh! What would John think if his dear brother was using their special signal on others? I don't think he'd be very happy, do you?"

Baron swallowed hard and scowled, "I will be deaf to your references."

"Nevertheless, you _will _hear what I have to say next. If you love Draco so, you will want to protect him and I respect that. Therefore, I will leave Draco alone awhile..._if _you come to John's old room in Hogsmeade Manor next time there's a Hogsmeade visit. Any time of the day. I've got nothing planned. I'm flexible. Now, now, don't ask anything!" Nekros wagged a finger as Baron opened his mouth, "It'll spoil the surprise! So, will you come?"

_Kindless villain! __**How dare he befoul my brother's chamber?**_"Get you gone! That morrow, I shall come upon you. Until that day, _out of my sight_!" Baron snarled, fuming. Nekros smirked and then, faded away, leaving Baron with the sleeping Draco.

* * *

"What happened to your hand, Ginny?"

Harry glanced over at Ginny after Ron had asked this question. What a surprise he got! Ginny's left hand was bandaged at the palm but there was no sign of blood or anything else. Just like Harry's hand had been when he had first got his Moon Mark. He whole-heartedly agreed with Baron when he muttered, "Hardly a coincidence, this be." Ginny looked up to her right hand side and then back again,

"I just...injured it in Herbology...undiluted Bubotuber pus splashed on me when I...fell backwards into a whole load of them...it was the Venomous Tentacula. It slapped me back."

"Ooh!" Hermione gasped, "That must have been painful! Bubotuber pus is really nasty to the skin when undiluted!"

"Yeah...really..." Ginny nodded, with a slight grimace,

"What excellent falsehood she uttereth." muttered Baron, making Harry stiffen.

_Ginny's lying? So...could this mean...?_ Harry gave Ginny a good, long stare. _Could she possibly own one of the Moon Items? They are starting to come out now so it's likely, isn't it? If she did own a Moon Item, which one was it? Which spirit did it contain and was it a Light Sorcerer or a Dark Sorcerer? If only I could see it..._He turned to Baron, who wasn't there for a second. He then saw him walking back from the staff table.

_Where were you?_ Harry asked this through his mind.

"I requested the advice of Severus and Sabian. Such discoveries they have made; for ne'er the two could penetrate the maid's mind."

_Baron...I've been thinking...if she does own a Moon Item, then which one is it? And where's the spirit? It could be good or evil for all we know._

Baron's narrowed eyes locked on Ginny, looking very thoughtful, "No evil has beset this gentle soul." Harry mentally breathed a sigh of relief.

_At least one of my friends aren't in danger of being possessed by an evil spirit!_

"My heart is as glad as yours. But, alack, my remembrance has long dispatched the knowledge of which Sorcerer answers with each Moon Item. They are Medallion, Eye, Ring, Compass, Rod, Orb and Mirror; seven all."

With the possibility of Ginny being a new addition to their team, Harry continued with his kippers, as Ginny's roommates discussed the scent of water lilies in their dormitory that morning.

* * *

Now, Harry and Baron had no idea why but someone must have bewitched the clocks or maybe time itself to go much slower than usual. Now, that wasn't very helpful since they had History of Magic that day. Harry was only kept from falling asleep by Baron poking him in the arm every time he got close.

He also had Transfiguration. A lesson that strangely went very well for Harry. They were trying to turn crows into china. Fifteen minutes into the lesson and Harry still had a crow whose beak was weighed down by a black china replacement. It was comically trying to walk about with its beak trailing on the table. Even Hermione was having problems. Her crow was only half done and had the tips of its wings weighed down.

Baron then decided to step in, "Give me your attention." Harry found Baron to, in fact, be a better teacher than McGonagall. All because he knew various short-cuts and spells that needed less concentration but provided very good results. Five minutes later, with Baron's help, Harry had managed to transfigure the crow completely, "Transfiguration was a favourite of mine." Baron said, "I did progress it so that I found new powers less rough and wearisome. As I progressed, I too managed to transform myself; a black unicorn, I was, when it t'was my will." The best of it all was that McGonagall noticed Harry was getting the hang of it and awarded twenty points to Gryffindor,

"How did you do it, Harry?" cried Hermione, at the end of the class. Usually, she was the one who gained the points, "In just twenty minutes too! My beak was still bone at the end."

"Oh, it's really a cinch once you get the hang of it." Harry grinned. Baron chuckled, amused.

Finally, at the end of the day, Harry felt the signal in his hand. He and Baron hurried down to the dungeon after Harry muttered, "Just remembered...left something in a classroom..." to Ron and Hermione. They stared after him but Harry didn't care. He had to know if Ginny was there. _If she was, then she had a Moon Item! _Baron was the faster but just barely.

After a wild run there, they reached Snape's office and, before they could knock, Snape called, "Come in, Potter." They opened the door and saw Ginny sitting in front of Snape's desk. Her Moon Item now was clearly visible. It was a string of silver pearls and, hanging off them was a small mirror. It was only about the size of a galleon coin and it did not reflect the room but strange patterns and in the middle, the unmistakable Moon Symbol.

They entered the room and Ginny spoke, "Hi, Harry! Okay, we're all here now, right? This is the Moon Mirror." she gestured at the silver necklace, "The spirit's on her way but watch it..." she added in an undertone, "...she's a bit full of herself." She gestured at the door, where someone was standing in the doorway. A woman leaning against the doorframe in a way that echoed sex-appeal.

She was a strikingly beautiful young woman with a white cloak flowing from her shoulders unlike Baron's but, like Baron, she bore a golden brown tan. Her sparkling eyes were a deep blue, almost black and her straight hair was long and done up in a high ponytail with a few strands curled and left loose in a very attractive way.

She was wearing a bright green top with very short sleeves and a knee-length emerald skirt that was straight and shiny like her long red hair (apart from a few magically curled strands framing her face). Her polished bright green boots had a slight heel and around her neck was the Moon Mirror. Harry noticed Baron, who was next to him, stiffen and give a small gasp. She pulled herself away from the door and walked into the room like she was on the catwalk,

"Greetings. _Soy_ Zirconia Esperanza Valerie Evansong." she said, clearly with a slight Spanish accent, as though this was the most important thing in the world, looking around them all, "Light Sorceress, Exiled and..." She gasped as her eyes rested on Baron, losing her sultry air. Baron stood up. Zirconia's voice suddenly became emotional, "Oh, Gabriel...can it be...really you?" She gently placed one of her hands on his face. Baron smiled,

"O, rose of Spain..."

Then, she turned angry, "_Take this!_"

"Oh!" Baron was knocked the floor from the blow he sustained to his head from a suddenly infuriated Zirconia. He rubbed the side of his head and pulled himself back up,

"_Dios mia_!" She stamped her foot and whisked around so she was looking away from him in a sulky manner, "Of all the people I could have met on my first day in the living world again, I had to run into _you_!"

Baron eased himself to his feet, "A thousand apologies, sweet jewel..."

Zirconia whisked round to face him again, cutting him off, "Apologies?" She put her head to one side, raised an eyebrow and had her hands on her hips, looking cynical. As quickly as she had adopted the first pose, she then turned her head to the side, her nose in the air and her hand raised, as if blocking Baron, "No! Apologies aren't enough!" She turned back to you and poked a finger into his chest as she strode forwards, making him back into the wall, "Saying sorry won't make up for leaving me _standing at the ALTER_!"

He jumped, as though remembered something really important, "O..."

"Remembering now, are we?" She seemed to tower over him even though she was a little shorter than him, "Two whole hours, I waited!" Her voice suddenly turned misty, "My mother had come all the way from Barcelona to see it. I was wearing her wedding dress. The alter was decorated with white _roses_!" Her voice rose at the last word,

"Wench!" Baron too became angry, "_Fie, wrangling mistress of goblins! Durst you accuse me of Dark Sorcery? For how else would I find when the villains attack?"_

"'I had to go' you said." Zirconia bit back, "'It was urgent' you said! I went running off halfway round the country searching for you. Only to find you dead!" She suddenly bit her lip and whisked away to the side so she was facing away from them all, failing to conceal the fact that she was crying. The whimpering gave it away. Baron stepped towards her, reaching for her shoulder,

"Ay, me. What serpent am I that doth sting this rose?"

"_Why did you go_?" she screamed at him, "Right before the wedding and you didn't even bother to contact me! You didn't even care! You just went and jilted me! Me! _Yo_!"

"Most beloved Zirconia," He took hold of her hands in a firm grip, "Precious jewel of the Spaniards; I did love you. The envious moon was darkened in my eyes; the stars meaningless because of your beauty."

Zirconia avoided his eyes and she was shaking. After a moment's consideration, she turned back to him and leaned forward on her tiptoes. Baron saw what she wanted and leaned forward...

Ginny then cleared her throat, "Er, if you two crazy lovebirds could get off one another, you would notice that there are other people in the room!"

They both looked round. Zirconia then grinned, "Oh, sorry." and extended an elegant hand to Harry for him to shake, "Ginny told me you were Harry. _Encantada._ I would have been Gabriel's wife but the war got in the way. With all the fighting and that, it was almost impossible to have a romantic life outside of it. I got involved and now I'm a Sorceress! It was so wonderful! And then..." she broke off. Baron patted her shoulder.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think of Zirconia? I'm trying to make her character as much like a Spanish Miss Piggy as I can. Please tell me if I've succeeded! 

**Translations: _Callais Marinus_: **Turquoise of the Sea

_**Soy...:**_ I am...

**_Dios mia!: _**Oh, my God!

**_Yo!:_** Me!

**_Encantada: _**Pleased to meet you.

I decided not to put translations of Nekros's mottos in the last chapter since they were already there in the text.


	13. Sabian's Tale

A/N Okay, a bit of a depressing chapter ahead. Just to warn you. Right now, I'm going back over the chapters to alter Baron's speech to make it (even) more Shakespearian. 

**Twin Tails Speed: **You're too kind!

(12/10/07): Tiny updates. Just tiny.

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 13: Sabian's Tale

The following night was clear and mild for a February one. There were no clouds or mist and the moon was shining so brightly that it was almost as bright as day. The stars twinkled overhead and two figures headed out of the double doors of the Entrance Hall. They ran swiftly and silently across the lawns, their white cloaks billowing behind them almost ghostlike. Fortunately, Hagrid had dozed off in his cabin so he didn't see them. They ran along the banks of the mirror-like lake and then stopped when they were far enough from the castle.

Zirconia threw back her hood and Baron did the same. Facing one another, Zirconia leaned a bit closer to him, standing on her tiptoes. Her intentions were clear. Baron pushed her down and looked over her shoulder to check they were not followed. Zirconia grabbed his face, impatient, and pulled it back to her, "Why the secrecy, Gabe?"

Baron muttered in a low voice, "The cloak of night shields us in flesh, else all shall gaze…"

"Then let them gaze!" This time she didn't hesitate or slow down. She shot up on her toes and kissed him on his unbelievably soft lips. Baron froze for a moment and then, accepting what was happening, closed his eyes and kissed her back. They tilted their heads sideways slightly and deepened their kiss. Zirconia was loving it: she was finally with the man she loved after two hundred years. Baron, for a moment, forgot all the promises he had made to himself to exercise caution over how much trust he showed. He was with Zirconia: the one he'd always loved. He was now in his own, perfect world; the one he only entered before when he cut himself. For a moment, he pretended that his anything-but-perfect past never happened and all was well.

Slowly, gently and with barely concealed reluctance, they ended their kiss. Zirconia lowered herself and then, as she looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. Baron stared._ Have I done something wrong? _The female whispered, "I found you and John first. You had Nekros's knife in your chest. I pulled it out and tried every spell I could to revive you. But it was too late. You were already dead. And John...I couldn't tell how he died. He was just lying there...no mark...no wound...and yet he was dead." She broke down in tears. Baron drew her to him until she calmed down,

"I'll tell you a secret," she beckoned him closer, "I actually killed myself on the day after your funeral. I was wearing my wedding dress and all. I secretly prepared the poison and drank it." She grinned, "I haven't told Ginny or anyone else. Alright, Gabe, I've told you how I died. So, how did _you_ die?" Baron then took a step back from her and averted his eyes. Zirconia frowned. _What is he doing? We're both Exiled, aren't we? He can tell me anything, can't he?_

"Gabriel? _Que pasa_...Gabriel? You're not crying, are you?"

His eyes were indeed sparkling with tears. He closed his eyes in anguish. He suddenly looked like the three hundred years in which he had existed were crashing down on his shoulders. Making him look very weary and old even though his face was still fresh and young. Zirconia was baffled. _What's wrong with him? Isn't he happy to be with me? He's got to be sick or something. This isn't like him_, "Gabriel?" she crooned, laying her head on his shoulder, "What's wrong, love? _Digamé_."

He then sighed, "Zirconia," she flinched at the sound of her full name. _He never called me that!_ "I am sick of soul. My heart cannot open its mouth to speak." He turned around fully so he had his back to her. Now, Zirconia was never a patient person and she was the one to jump to conclusions too; which she did then. She suddenly grew very angry at the assumption she came to,

"Don't you trust me anymore, Gabriel?" she hissed with menace, "Perhaps you confided in your host, Sabian, that Potions Master and not me!"

Baron shook his head, "Four hundred brothers could not bear them or you confidence more than I..." he sighed again, "…but this matter does not affect confidence…"

He strode down the slope to the lake's banks. He sat down on a rock and looked down at his hands clasped on his lap. His whole body echoed of despair and an infinite sadness so complete that the sky opened up its heart and it began weeping through rain. Yes, it was raining and it wasn't any doing of Baron's. Rain fell onto his face, making his tears indistinguishable.

Zirconia didn't notice. She was not going to give up. She was going to find out what was wrong with him! She threw up her hood to protect her hair from the rain (she didn't want it getting frizzy!) came down the bank towards him, albeit a little less gracefully than him. She put her hands on her hips standing next to him until he looked up. He silently tuned away from her to gaze out onto the lake.

Zirconia stamped her foot, "If you hadn't told the others, you'd still tell me! You're not the Gabriel I fell in love with! He's tell me anything! That Gabriel wasn't so serious either! At least with him I got a laugh out of him! I want my Gabriel back!" With that, she strode off. Baron watched her leave but didn't call her back. She would not come back even if he did. He got up after she had marched back into the castle.

Once inside, he became spirit, walking with his head down, unaware of everything around him. Not even Nekros's mottos that still appeared by someone else's hand, not Draco's. He whispered one word but the one word alone that caused him guilt, pain and misery, "John..." he then whispered. Only he knew that he was saying a whispered prayer to him, "...forgive me, brother...to discover you was my heart's only want…but our secret is veiled…I shalt alone abide it…"

Little did he know that someone was watching him in the shadows. He was watching with wide eyes. When he had whispered that name, he jumped in shock and surprise. He listened even more carefully. His mouth dropped open as he listened.

* * *

"So they had a bit of an argument last night?"

"Yeah," Harry had just filled Snape and Sabian in on what had happened. Unbeknownst by Baron or Zirconia, he had watched them with Ginny with his Moon Medallion. They had seen everything: their kiss and the disastrous aftermath. Both Baron and Zirconia was shut themselves up in their respective Moon Item and locked their hosts out, wanting to be left alone.

"Did Gabriel cut himself in the Common Room again?" Sabian said, solemnly. He knew the answer. Harry stared. _How on earth did he know that? Had Baron been cutting himself for that long right under my nose? _Sabian nodded, "By the look on your face, he did." he sighed, "Och, Gabriel has been doing that a lot. Even when he was alive. I did try to find out what was wrong with him but he just shut himself away from me"

Sabian remembered those times all too well. It had been heart-breaking for the person whom he had watched over like a second father would turn away from him. Snape made him snap out of his memory reverie by asking,

"Baron cuts himself?"

"Yeah. I just came down and saw him lying on the Common Room. He had his shirt off and he had just slashed himself across the chest." Ginny gasped, "I thought he was dead, at first. When he saw me and tried to cover it up with his cloak. I asked him what was going on but he just burst into tears and ran into the Moon Medallion." Harry too lapsed into thought. _I never thought Baron was so unhappy that he had resorted to cutting himself. Why didn't he tell me? I could have helped him..._

"Did he lock you out too?" Ginny snapped him out of his reverie,

"Yeah."

"Zirconia shut me out too. She just came into my dormitory in tears and told her part of the story. She was making it seem worse than it really was so I had a look at what had happened in the Moon Mirror." She meant that the Moon Mirror had the power to look at any event that happened in the past. Any event at all: be it in the seventeenth century or just the day before, "I told her that she had been really mean and she had taken things too seriously. She then threw a big hissy fit and stormed off into the Moon Mirror. She's sulking in there right now." She withdrew into a thoughtful silence._ That was very mean of Zirconia for being so insensitive. I bet she knew Baron was depressed!_

"Well, I think we'd better go and see them." Sabian put in, "I dunnae like the idea of them both locking themselves into Moon Items. Here; we'll go by the Moon Eye."

Going into the Moon Eye was just the same as going into the Moon Medallion. Their surroundings changed to the familiar dark tunnel with white lights rising up around them. They descended into the Moon Eye and looked around. The interior of the Moon Eye was rather warm and friendly, a large contrast with Snape's office. Like Sabian. The walls were lined with books. Probably why Sabian was so clever. The furniture colour scheme was deep blues and a amber-coloured fire was burning in the grate. Rather like Sabian's appearance.

Harry hadn't noticed before but, compared to this brightly lit room, the interior of the Moon Medallion suddenly looked darker and more shadowy. More could be seen in this room; whereas the Moon Medallion's shadows hid most things in the room. Sabian then opened a door next the fire and led them inside the room with the six doors that led off to the other Moon Items. The room was a bit more brightly lit than Baron's so they could see the symbols on the doors clearly,

"Right," Sabian clapped his hands, "Now, I think it's best if we split into twos to see them. I'm Gabriel's oldest friend and Harry's his host so we'll go into the Moon Medallion. Ginny is Zirconia's host and Severus can knock sense into anyone so he can go with her." Needless to say, they were both less than impressed with this arrangement but neither could argue, "Right, all of us have to try and be sensitive with both of them, y'hear. Nae being harsh. That means you, too, Severus! I'll know if you have! Right, c'mon, Harry!"

Sabian and Harry hurried through the door that led to the darker Moon Medallion. They found that the candles lighting the place were dimmer than usual. They had almost gone out. They heard a great smashing noise and a loud moan of anguish coming from Baron's room, "Baron!" gasped Harry. Sabian hurried up with him, almost level with Harry. His hair was flying behind him. _Oh, great Gods_ thought Sabe _please let Gabriel be in a good state!_

They found the door locked so Harry and Sabian gave it a good kick and it shot open. They ran a few steps in and had to stop there. For shards of a mirror that had once been hanging on the wall, glass coverings of paintings and broken china littered the floor. Blood was wiped on the usually very tidy walls, the hangings on his unused bed were stained a darker red than usual and, in the middle of this chaos, Baron knelt in the middle of the floor, his chest bare and bleeding and his head bowed, a vast pool of tears lying in front of him.

He didn't look like the composed, tidy Baron they all knew. His hair was very dishevelled and parts of it were stuck together with dried blood where he must have run his bloody hands through his hair. He was moaning to the floor, which was almost invisible under shards of glass and china. He gasped since he had heard the door open and his head shot up.

His face was haggard, his glasses were askew and were flecked with blood and his hair was stuck to his forehead. Blood had intermingled with tears and made unsightly stains on his face. He gasped again when he saw them. He grabbed his cloak and tried vainly to cover up his chest. The blood soaked through the white and made stains that were all too obvious, "No..." he whispered, hoarse from all his crying, "out..._out, I say! Hence from this piteous wretch!_"

"Baron..."

"Gabriel..."

They walked carefully, almost fearfully toward him. They were scared for him. Harry reached out of his friend, "Please...we just want to help..."

"NO!" Baron screamed as if demented. He then fled from them into a corner, still clutching his cloak to his chest. Baron slid down the wall, onto his knees, "NO! NO! NO!" With each word, he slammed his abused fist into the wall, making cracks in the wallpaper.

Harry hurried after his stricken friend. He had to help him. He was going mad! He weaved around the maze of shards to get to him though. He slowed to a walk as he got close to Baron. He stopped a few inches from him. He could see that Baron was shaking all over, staring at Harry with wide eyes. _How could Baron let himself get like this?_

"Baron?" Harry reached out a hand but Baron flinched away like a nervous horse,

"Hence..." He pressed his bleeding arm against the once white wallpaper. Trails of blood slowly trickled down the wall like ruby-red snails, leaving crimson trails. Harry took hold of it and looked on the inside of it. What a shock he got! Accompanying the long cut going from his wrist and going down to his elbow were many other scars from previous upsets. _There's got to be more scars than bare skin._ He looked at Baron with a shocked and disgusted look on his face, clearly asking 'How could you do this to yourself?'

Baron flinched the look he gave him and then grew annoyed. He shot up, drawing himself up to his full height with a face full of anger. Harry drew back. Baron looked utterly mad and frightening. Baron, in a blind fury, grabbed Harry and smashed him across the face with such force that Harry would have fallen if Sabian hadn't been there to catch him. Blood from his hand splattered onto Harry's face,

"_Leave me! Can you not see that I am not of the welcoming vein today?_" he screamed at the both of them. His anger, frustration and grief was coming out through his screams. All the emotions he had bottled up until then,

"Gabriel!" cried Sabian in desperation, "Calm down! Do you nae understand that we're only trying to help you?"

"NO!" he yelled, louder this time, clapping his hands over his ears and rocking back and forth, "STOP! _STOP!_ HENCE FROM ME! GET YOU GONE! OUT! DO NOT COME CLOSE! DO NOT TROUBLE ME, YOU SPYING MINISTERS!" He then was suddenly struck by weakness and despair. He fell silent and collapsed to his knees again. He covered his face with his hands, sobbing pitifully, moaning again. Harry tried again, even though his cheek was still throbbing from Baron's hit. He put his hand on Baron's shoulder,

"C'mon, Baron. This can't go on."

"_Get...you gone..._" Baron moaned in barely more than a whisper, shaking his head, looking and sounding weaker, "_I cannot...I will not…hence, now…do as I pronounce't…trouble me not…_"

"No, Baron." Harry softened his voice, "I won't go. If I did, you'd hurt _yourself_. And we won't _ever_ hurt you."

Baron looked up at Harry through his fingers. He looked at him with red-rimmed eyes that were so sad that the outer ends seemed to have a droop to them. There was a silent pause. Well, almost silent, since Baron was still sniffing. Then, Baron saw the blood on Harry's cheek where he had hit him. He seemed to realise what he had done, "Harry!" Baron lost all control over himself and pulled Harry into a hug. Since Baron was kneeling and Harry was standing, Baron buried his face into Harry's chest, his sobbing now becoming hysterical,

"Nor shall I; nor shall I…" wept Baron, slightly muffled by Harry's chest, "No harm will I give you…Forgive me; forgive me…!"

Harry gently hugged him back, trying to stem the flow of tears that were coming from his eyes now. His usually imperious, composed friend was just a mask covering up the desperately unhappy person beneath. _I never thought Baron was so unhappy_ Harry thought again_ I know that he felt grief for his brother but I never knew he had this much pent up inside him._ He patted Baron on the back awkwardly, who was now in hysterics.

They remained in this posistion for a long amount of time before Baron looked up at Harry with a teary smile and let him go. He stood up, shakily, leaving his cloak in a heap on the floor. He ran a hand through his bloody hair and half collapsed on the bed. He looked up at them with the same, teary smile, "Where art Severus?"

"He's gone to try and knock some sense into that stubborn lassie along with Ginny."

Baron sighed and picked up his shirt that was lying on the bed. It miraculously was clean and free of blood. He made to put it on but the Scottish spirit stopped him with only a slight hint of sternness in his voice, "You're nae going to put it back on with those wounds. Nae, keep it off." He put it down and sighed,

"This whole occurrence…was my selfish doing. Would I have kept it…"

"It's okay, Baron." Harry patted Baron's shoulder, "C'mon. I think we'd better clean up."

"Aye, good idea. Here, Harry, you take Gabriel downstairs and look after him. I'll clear up here. Harry," he beckoned him over. Sabian reached under his cloak and produced a small vial of misty potion, "This is Sleeping Draught. He does nae sleep, right?"

"Yeah, he doesn't." Harry remembered all too well the sleepless nights Baron had spent alone,

"Well, this might do him some good, then."

Harry stowed the bottle away into his pocket, knowing what to do, and then half-carried a weakened Baron downstairs into the sitting room. Baron slumped on the sofa. The candles on the chandelier and the fire in the grate were a little brighter than before. Baron closed his eyes in anguish, "Harry...grant me wine. I am ill of spirit." Harry took out a bottle of red wine from the rack, placing it on a table along with a wine glass. Carefully, he pulled out the cork, filled the glass and, being careful not to let Baron see, poured in the potion. He swivelled in around a bit to make sure that not a trace of potion remained. He then took it over to his weary friend and held it out. Baron opened his eyes and took it from him, "Trouble yourself not," he murmured, "this is not common occurrence." And he drained his glass.

Harry wondered whether it had worked or not. Harry had a strange feeling that Baron knew about the Sleeping Draught. However, Baron placed his glass back down on the coffee table and laid his head back. Just before his eyes had completely closed, he let out a soft sigh that formed two words, "Thank you..." Baron gave a small smile and his features relaxed as he fell into a deep sleep. Harry stared at his sleeping friend. It had been the first time he had seen him sleep. His peaceful face made such a contrast with the ugly wounds all over his body.

Harry noticed a tattoo on the Baron's chest, near the base of his neck. It was a coat of arms: the ornate shield bore a rearing dark unicorn, standing on its hind legs in front of a laurel wreath with a pair of feathery wings. Surrounding it was symmetrical mantling with a stag on each side. Even though the tattoo was not particularly big, he could clearly see the words beneath: _Pax, Virtus et Sapientia. _

Harry's eyes lingered on the tattoo for a moment and then, he sat down beside his friend. _Poor Baron_ he thought _he's been through so much. I'm glad he's okay now._

Harry didn't know how long he had been sitting there with Baron. After long minutes, Sabian came down, as quietly as he could,

"So it worked, eh?" he came to Harry's side, to have a wistful look at Baron, "Och, it's been so long since I've seen him so peaceful like this." Sabian then wrapped Baron's wounds in bandages that appeared from thin air at a flick of his hand. He turned to Harry, "I've fixed his bedroom. He can go back in. Take his legs, Harry." Together, Sabian and Harry carried the limp Baron up to the now spotless bedroom.

There wasn't even a drop of blood to be seen anywhere. They laid him down and Harry pulled up the bed sheets up to just below Baron's shoulders, "That should make him a wee bit more comfortable." Sabian nodded. They sat on either side; Harry on Baron's left and Sabian on his right. There was a little pause, during which Harry noticed a violin lying on a chest of drawers. Harry thought he might ask about that and Baron's tattoo but then, just as he opened his mouth, Sabian glanced at the door,

"Och, here's Severus with Zirconia!" He stood up and opened the door to reveal they were indeed there along with Ginny. He stopped them coming in with his arm, "You cannae come in. Gabriel's asleep."

Ginny frowned, "I thought that he was an insomniac."

"That he is, Ginny but I gave him some Sleeping Draught and I think that worked. Anyway, I think we had better go into the sitting room until he wakes up."

"Can I stay with him?" Zirconia appeared. Streaks of diluted mascara were going vertically down her face from her eyes like she had been crying and she was speaking rather tentatively, seeing Sabian's judging expression, "_Por favor._"

"Aye, I suppose so but dunnae wake him. C'mon, Harry."

Harry followed them out of the door, leaving Zir behind. They sat down and Sabian sighed,

"Poor Gabriel. He's been like this ever since John was thrown out. He was nae like this when John was there. Nae, he was so cheerful. You wouldn't recognise him from what he is now. You could nae be in a bad mood around him. At Hogwarts, even though he and John were in different houses, they were the worst pranksters I'd ever come across. Aye, they would have given Fred and George a run for their money. They were wee terrors! And believe me, I used to be the Potions Master! John was the playful sort who always looked innocent and sweet. He absolutely adored his brother. Gabriel was excellent with his studies but was very arrogant, confident and always liked lounging about in the grounds, showing off his spells to the girls."

Harry's eyes widened. As did Snape's and Ginny's. Baron; a prank-pulling show-off? It seemed almost impossible! Snape was suddenly strongly reminded of James Potter.

"Knew you would nae believe me. But then John disappeared and Gabriel...well...he just was nae himself after that. He stopped sleeping and, after a week, he started cutting himself. I did nae tell him I knew. Wish I had, now. He became rather sober after that and stopped pulling pranks. He became a bit of a loner too. His face grew paler and his eyes turned cold and dead."

Harry then realised that Baron's tan was a little paler than Sabian's. Sabian continued, "Then, four months later, the Dark Sorcerers started their dirty work. His father was the Baron at the time and fought them as was his duty. He was really badly injured in doing it. So much so that he was condemned to be bedridden for six years. Same with his mother, who had been fighting with him.

"They had to have another Baron to take their place. Edward and Christine were so insistent that it should be Gabriel. 'I know he can do it' Christine said 'I know he can beat them back'. I tried to discourage them: 'He's only fourteen and he's your only son,' I said 'Dunnae throw him into this.' Gabriel himself was very reluctant at first but then, when he first fought Nekros, something happened. Something took place in that fight to make him change his mind. I nae found it what it was and dunnae know now."

"After that, he learned all the secrets of sorcery and fought the war with determination and strength. I nae wanted him to go the war alone so I became one too. Of course, Zirconia was his girlfriend at that time and she strongly felt she had to fight too. The War of Sorcery raged on for seven long years. For seven years, innocent people were either killed, tortured to insanity or controlled to do terrible things. In some cases, all three. And many other things were done to them at that.

"It was nae just Hogsmeade either. They attacked the Ministry of Magic and, in doing so, found the Department of Mysteries. They obtained countless secrets from there by skulking or using methods of torture to force it out of the employees. During the second year of the War, Dementors and Boggarts were brought into being. Both were created by Nekros of course."

"Yeah," said Ginny darkly, "Creating fear and misery; yep, sounds like him."

"Aye. We Light Sorcerers then countered by becoming Animagi. Aye, we're all Animagi. Watch." He stood up and transformed into a large dog. It was long haired with brown, black and white patches (exactly like his hair) and a long snout. Snape privately identified him as a rough collie.

Sabian changed back with a grin and then sat down to continue his story,

"In the middle of the war, all the sorcerers (aye, even the Dark ones) agreed that sorcery was far too powerful and dangerous for its use to be continued by innocents. Sorcery had only just been brought about then and we all agreed that it was so strong that it was too dangerous. So, that's when we created our Moon Items; to lock the powerful magic away until the right people came along. So, it went on. In the final year of the war, the Dark Sorcerers started having rifts between one another. In the end, one power-hungry one killed Nekros's favourite because he wanted to be in that posistion. That 'brilliant' plan backfired however when Nekros grew very angry with him and killed him after a ferocious battle. Then Nekros, after a while, just...vanished. Aye, vanished. Into thin air without a trace."

"What happened to the Light Sorcerers?" Harry interjected, wanting to clear a few things up. Being too absorbed in Sabian's story, he had forgotten about Baron's tattoo, "I know Baron was found dead with his brother and Zir poisoned herself on her wedding day but what about you and the other Light Sorcerer?"

"Zirconia poisoned herself, did she?" Sabian swallowed his surprise for a moment, "Well, the other Light Sorcerer had just vanished like Nekros. I was the last Light Sorcerer left after a while. I thought I might as well go too. So, I paid a maid to smother me in my sleep. Did nae feel a thing."

"How come you never told me about this?" Snape blurted out, outraged that such a fact had been hidden from him.

"You've nae asked." Sabian said lightly.

* * *

A/N: Right, so now we have some more backround on Baron and the war! Can you spot the things that are crucial to the plot in this chapter? 


	14. The First Strife

A/N: Hello again! Now I've finished giving my chapters a check-up, time to move on!

**Twin Tails Speed (my ever constant reviewer): Thanks so much!**

**cyiusblack (another constant reviewer): I liked that chapter too. Rather more dramatic than the others.**

This one's rather more emotional and gives us more of an insight on John. So, without further ado, read on!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 14: The First Strife

The fragrance of water lilies had disappeared from the room at last but Ron hardly noticed. He flopped onto his bed. _God, what a day!_ A Venomous Tentacula had nearly strangled him in Herbology and then, in Defence Against the Dark Arts, a Kappa had almost choked him too. He still had sore red marks on his neck from both occasions so it looked like he was wearing a silk red scarf wound tightly around his neck. _I hope it wears off tomorrow_, "Damn all Venomous Tentaculas. Damn all Kappas." he moaned.

"Yeah. I feel the same way, mate."

Ron sat bolt upright, his instinctive hand on his wand. A voice had just spoken from the shadows, "Who was that?" he said, snappishly, "Show yourself, whoever you are!"

"Just relax, will you? Okay, you want to see me. Right, just look in the mirror."

"Why?" Ron frowned. Who _was_ that? It sounded normal, human, but it was unfamiliar. He'd never heard it before. He looked upwards, around the beds and all around but no sign of anyone anywhere.

"That's how you can see me."

A small feeling nagged at the back of Ron's head that, in actual fact, he had heard it before. But, the irritating fact was that he couldn't remember exactly where. Maybe it had been in a dream? Or some distant past? Had he heard it when he was younger?

Putting all theories out of his mind, he gradually turned his head towards the gold-framed mirror and saw...his own reflection looking back at him. He shook his head. _This had to be a joke_,

"Yeah, very funny joke, you two." He stood up, his long arms folded, "Almost had me there. But you can't fool me."

There was a frustrated noise, "Oh, for goodness's sake, this isn't a practical joke cooked up by your older brothers. No, god forbid. Look again. A bit more carefully this time." Ron turned again, just out of spite. To prove them wrong. His reflection yet again. Very annoyed, he was just about to turn again for another diatribe when his reflection...waved. He did a double take. Surely it had to just be a trick of the light. A mirror reflection can't _wave_! Or maybe that Kappa had some magic to make him hallucinate. or the Venomous Tentacula. _Well, they can't be called venomous for nothing._ He stared at his reflection. This time, he noticed that it was grinning at him.

The reflection then stepped easily from the mirror as though it had just gone through a waterfall or a portal. Ron then saw him properly. Apart from the fact that he wore a Slytherin scarf and Slytherin colours on his robes, they were absolutely identical. Same red hair; same long nose...as like as two twins. Ron just gaped. Well, what else could he do? He had just seen a reflection come to life and step out of the mirror. Even in the wizarding world, this wasn't something people would see every day,

"Hi," said the reflection in a friendly tone, with a grin to match, "I'm Julian."

"Ah...um..." Ron wondered how best to say 'What on earth are you?' But Julian then seemed to know what he was trying to say,

"I'm the spirit of your great-great-great...ah, forget it." He waved his hand, "It'd take too long to say it. Let's just say I'm a Weasley from the seventeen hundreds and let's leave it at that."

"Ah...how did you get here?" Ron was still a little distrusting,

"Through this." He opened Ron's trunk and took out something. It was a silver rod, the same length as the distance between the top of Ron's head to his waist. A pair of disembodied wings sat on the top. One was blank, in a basic, triangular shape and the other was bony and bat like, slightly curled in while the other reached out. The thin rod was blank except for the symbol of a thin moon near the bottom, embossed neatly there with no other design, "From the very moment you first took of hold of it, my soul was released."

Ron was puzzled, "How come you were locked up there in the first place?"

"Ah, questions, questions! So many questions!" Julian waved his hand again, "Ron, I want to know a bit about you, first. How my family's developed over the years!"

As they sat down and a conversation formed, so did a trust between them.

* * *

There was a Hogsmeade weekend a few days later. One that Baron was a lot more happy about, "O, excellent day!" said Baron happily, "Shalt Zirconia and Ginny accompany us? It should warm her heart to see't again and Ginny shalt have new sights."

"Uh, Baron...she's a second year...she can't go..."

"Yea, but ne'er did you complete your permission. Yet you go'er, you do?" Baron smirked. Harry didn't answer,

"And Sabian did give me word that Severus was ne'er to come. Yet, come, he dost. Rules art things meant to be broken!"

"Oh, well, if you put it that way." Harry said, realising Baron had a point. Baron then gave a mischievous grin,

"Powers statutes hast ne'er reach spirits. They art only for flesh! Since I did live there, I hath more permission to go'er than students!" he laughed a little, "No rules do we break!"

Harry nodded, "Good point. But...you sounded a bit like the Weasley twins for a minute though."

Baron shrugged, "Ay me, a jester, t'was I in my youth when time was right..."

"Sabe said that you were 'a wee terror'." Harry pointed out,

Baron put on a mock-defeated face, "I hath not wanted you to know't i'that manner!"

Zirconia was there in Hogsmeade and solid when they were in Hogsmeade. She sent scowls at the girls who pointed at Baron, who paid them no heed. He did the same to the boys who pointed at Zirconia. Ginny was beside her; invisible to others, just like Harry. She was grinning around at the surroundings, "It's just like my brothers told it was like!" Zirconia then suggested going up to 'Hogsmeade Manor'. Baron held her back, his face falling,

"Ne'er shalt you see it in glory. Tis destroyed, Zirconia. Destroyed by ghouls that doth haunt it. Tis now the Shrieking Shack."

"No!" Zirconia groaned, "Really? And it looked so lovely in our time! Do you think we should just go up and see it, as it is now?"

Baron shrugged, "If tis your will."

They went up the streets towards the hill. Girls stared at Baron in wonder and at Zirconia with jealousy. No surprises there. Harry also noticed that boys were staring at Zirconia in awe and at Baron with envy. _I know she's pretty but that is a bit much, isn't it? _Even a Slytherin boy whom Harry had known to be rather haughty and thinking no girl was good enough for him gaped. Zirconia caught his eyes, teasingly. She knew just how to deal with people like him! The boy was so absorbed in her that, without warning:

_BANG_!

He ran headlong into an iron lamppost. Zirconia giggled in a fluttery sort of way, as he massaged his head in a sitting posistion, "_Tonto_." She then called at him, "That'll teach you to gawp at people like a guppyfish! _Es muy estupido!_" The boy hurried off, red-faced, sincerely hoping no one he knew had seen that. Harry and Ginny couldn't help laughing either. Harry leaned towards Baron,

"What's going on? Why are they acting like that?"

Baron leaned in closer, "Methinks that Zirconia hath drops of Veela within her. Veela doth make men wild with love." muttered Baron,

"Makes sense." Ginny shrugged, "Veela make men do the most idiotic things."

Before Harry could ask what exactly Veela were, they reached the Shrieking Shack. Zirconia's face fell at the destruction of the place. _How on earth could it get like this? Were the villagers not respectful of the household of the Barons? _She then had an idea, "Gabriel, do you think the secret entrances into the Manor still work?"

"Maybe. I shalt test't."

He started tapping the bars of the gate with his knuckles. Harry and Ginny stared. _What on earth was he doing? _After rapping on a few, he came across a one that gave a hollow sound rather than the dull sound the others gave. He then took hold of that bar, pulled it up and clean out of the gate. He threw it aside and stepped sideways through the gap. He beckoned the others to do the same. They came through the gap. Ginny was amazed. Fred and George had done their best to try and find a way to get in and yet they never found that. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught sight of the symbol of a moon on the loose bar and got a good idea why Fred and George never found it.

They strode up the path; Baron and Zirconia ahead. Harry stared up at the old house. It looked even more shabby close up. He could see, for the first time, slash-marks in the paint. _Ghosts didn't do that_...it looked like some kind of animal had been at it. Harry frowned; _if ghosts hadn't done that then what did?_ Baron too seemed interested in them. He ran his fingers down a particularly long slash. It was so big. The creature in ownership of those claws had to be...

Ginny kicked the boards aside from the doorway just enough so they could get through. After entering, they found that there was more destruction on the inside than the outside.

At least an inch of dust covered everything. Shards of china scattered everywhere, the moth-eaten carpet that had lost its colour over the years was ripped, frayed and dirty and the doors were smashed to pieces. No repair effort had been made. The villagers probably didn't dare to enter. Baron picked up a piece of china and, seeing the design of the paint, smiled, "Father hath never loved this." he said. Zirconia smiled. She then noticed that a smashed door led into a circular room,

"Gabriel, here's the Great Hall!"

He hurried over, smiling as his mind restored it to how he remembered it. He remembered that, whenever there was an important meeting going on there, he was always forbidden from going there or listening in. That didn't stop him though. He went over to a wall and pulled back a torn cloth that had once been a grand tapestry. Yes, the passage was still there. They was where he pressed his ear against the wall to listen in,

"Och, aye. I remember that!"

A familiar voice came from the doorway. They looked round and saw Sabian and Snape standing there. Snape was having a good look round, interested, taking in more than the others, "You remember what, Sabe?" he asked, while observing something half lost in the dust.

"Well, whenever there was a village meeting, he was always sent to his room being told nae to stick his nose in. Of course, if you tell a child something like that, they dunnae obey it. The disobedient nature of children was ever present in Gabriel of course. He used to use that passage there from upstairs to listen in to what his father was saying. He'd sit there and listen for hours on end, not really interested. Just natural curiousity. Until I caught him, that is."

"You ne'er told the Baron, my Father, though?" Baron gave a sly grin.

"Aye...well..." Sabian faltered, "I didn't..."

"Give it up, Sabe. You're a bad liar. Baron can see right through you."

Harry actually laughed at Snape's comment before he could stop himself as Sabian stuttered, then gave up and ended with an 'och!'. Snape crouched down and brushed away the dust on the floor. There was an object lying there that seemed to have evaded the destruction that had swept the place. He had just seen it glinting in the morning light. Once clear, it was shown to be a small, marble statue of a dove. It had its wings folded and its head was held high. Two round, blue glass balls were set into its head. What a bright shine they had! Almost as if the statue could come to life and fly off its stand.

_Must have been an ornament from somewhere. And yet...I feel a bit of strong magic in this..._

He looked intently into the eyes of the statue. If it had been alive, it would have looked almost...mournful. Snape decided to investigate this statue further once he got back to Hogwarts. Carefully, he stowed it in a deep inside pocket.

* * *

Harry turned to Baron and saw he wasn't there. His cloak whipped round the corner of the passage.

Baron strode up the stairs and along the corridor. All the while, he so wanted to turn back. His mind screamed at him to turn and leave. His heart and soul pushed him on however. He had to see what Nekros wanted and get him out of John's room as soon as possible...

Half of him didn't want to face it because he knew that if he did; he would be reminded of John and he would start grieving all over again.But, before he knew it, he was in front of what he knew used to be John's old room. _This ist,_ he thought. He felt like that he was past the point of no return. He could not turn back now. He tried the door handle. Locked. Of course, he had locked it himself so he wouldn't be reminded too much. The Locking Spell still remained. Still, he had to go in now though. Yes, it was decided. He took a deep breath and opened the door that had miraculously survived the destruction that had swept through the house. He entered the room. Of all the rooms, it was relatively tidy. It had only lost its colour over time and was lost under a coat of dust. The window was open. He stepped into the room.

It was so strange and yet so familiar. He remembered it all so well: the drapes on the bed that John kept closed whenever he was upset (never when he was asleep), the bed itself where he had often curled up and cried when Father hit him, the faded Gryffindor banner (so faded that it lost all colour but Baron could see the Gryffindor house shield), the desk where John had often sat writing in his diary (which lay on the desk, under dust), the trace of the usual smell of freshly polished wood and...his eyes and face lit up as he saw it...his old broomstick. It was still there and, after he had brushed away the dust, it was still shiny and new-looking. John always kept it shiny. He was very passionate about broomsticks and Quidditch. Unlike Baron who had neither any talent or much interest in it. He would watch John fly though and marvel at how good he was.

It was all here. Nothing was out of place. Yet...there was something missing...something so important that it was more important than one of the walls being missing. When John was here, the place seemed alive. Without him, it was all very still, empty and silent. Like an empty shell. Yes, that was what was missing from the room he knew.

Its occupant. John.

A sudden wind then blew through the window that was undamaged and ajar. A thick cloud of dust filled the room. Gabriel threw up his arms to protect himself. He didn't need to, however. The dust didn't touch him; as though a forcefield was around him. When it cleared, he found that the desk was now clear of dust. he could see the polished wood surface and on it was the one thing that Baron really wanted to see.

A silver locket that was lying open on the desk. He walked closer and found that the black and white picture of the ten-year-old version of him on the left and on the right was the ten-year-old version of John. John looked up at him with his large eyes and waved at him, grinning his cheerful, infectious grin. Even Baron couldn't stop himself from smiling as he looked at it. He pulled out the picture from under the glass and turned it over. On it was John's writing: '_Gabriel, I love you as my brother. I''ll ne'er leave you.'_

_Wherefore leave you?_ Baron closed it and laid it back on the desk. _I should not hath come. All is suffering memories that Nekros takest to torment me._ He made to walk away. But, just as he reached for the door handle,

"Thought I wasn't going to come?"

Baron whipped around. Armoured and arrogant, Nekros leaned lazily against one of the bedpost. Baron scowled. _How dare he desecrate my brother's room!_ He kept silent as Nekros strode around the room, inspecting every inch of it, "How it all comes back." he said, more to himself than the Baron, "That banner he treasured; _why_, his old broomstick is still in good shape; the diary he wrote in." He made to open it but Baron slammed a firm hand down on the cover, making it impossible, "Just a quick look."

Nekros pulled the journal out and, before Baron could stop him, had turned to the front page, "Oh!" he crowed, "There's a picture of you here, Baron! Probably done by Madam Topaz. It always amazes me how well she can draw despite being blind. But, look what John has written underneath: 'Gabriel: the only one who is allowed to read this, except John'. In her handwriting too!"

"If for my eyes only tis meant," Baron forced out through gritted teeth, "then let't go! Get you gone from this place! How dare you desecrate my dear brother's room!" Nekros, however, did not leave. After a silent gaze at Baron, he closed the book and handed it to Baron,

"Read it." he commanded. He headed for the window while Baron sat down on the bed, his back to Nekros. With a steady hand, he turned the first page. All those memories; all those secret moments; all the thoughts...all of these belonged to John. Baron was a fast reader. He'd got halfway in ten minutes. By then, his previously steady hands were shaking.

Tears splashed onto his hands and onto his trousers as he reached the last entry:

_August 4, 1690._

_Dear Shiori,_

_Alas, the storm comes! As I write under my protecting sheet, such a horrid storm outside rages. I can hear every rain. My hand, tis shaking; I canst barely write. Gabriel has hence to bed. How exhausted is he and why not? Fancy doing all work from school in a day! I wish'd now I could hath helped but refuséd he all assistance._

_Esther's acts are rotten. Ne'er is she merry lest Father is her. But I hear he is making speed home. So Esther will soon be pleasant. Mother soul seems troubled, sad to say. Gabriel too hath this sickness. Topaz Oracle didst come, they say, and gave news they did not love. What ist, I wonder? And why art they so affrighted? I've heard that all four Oracle girls art madcap. Soft! I hear Father. I'll go down and see his health._

_Love John xx_

There wereno further entries after that. Because that was the day he was thrown out. Baron closed the journal with trembling hand, realising too late that tears had splashed onto the page, "Feeling sentimental?" Jumping to his feet, he whirled round. Nekros was leaning against the windowsill, his head cocked to the side. What really made Baron's blood boil was the sight of him holding the locket in his hand,

"Jean de-"

"_Ooohhhh_!" Nekros shuddered with pleasure, "I like it when you use my name."

"You chose't." Baron became ice-cold in a second, "Tis French form of John."

"Just as you chose yours." The other began to stride over to Baron, "God's messenger. You're such a sentimental man, _Gabriel_."

"Tis my strongest armour." Baron glared back at Nekros, who chuckled at this,

"_Really?_ I'd say it was your weak armour; your failing. Your spirit is weak. I could break it in an instant." He gripped Baron's shoulders and, slowly, pulled off the white cloak and removed his glasses (both were dispensed onto the bed), "I've seen your heart and it will be mine." The chain of the locket was twisted in his fingers as Nekros moved slowly around Baron,

"You dost know me not." Baron whispered, half-heartedly. Nekros however answered,

"I'm the only one here who knows you." Nekros's hands snaked around the other's body; one stroking Baron's neck; the other (the one with the locket) undoing three buttons of Baron's shirt, "I've seen you when you thought no one was looking. I've seen your deepest and darkest desires." He must have removed his helmet because he could feel Nekros's face instead of metal and his breath against his unveiled skin, "You want to be with me. You want to be on my side. _You want to be mine_."

"John is my only want." Baron whispered again, as Nekros's hand slid under his shirt to stroke his skin,

"And you will have him." Baron fell silent, "I know where he is, Baron. I can take you to him if you like. And when you two are together, you will never be apart. No one will come to take you away; no one will hurt you. All you have to do," he raised the locket hand and raised the golden pendant to Baron's eye level. It swayed back and forth as if Nekros was trying to hypnotise him, "is give your allegiance to me. I'll give you time to think about it."

For a long moment, Baron gazed at the locket, the journal slipping from his hands. His eyes seemed to be out of focus; half closed as though his mind was elsewhere. Nekros hovered in midair, as though weightless, easing Baron's shirt away from here to flump in a red heap on the floor. Baron's dark eyes closed, "The innocent suffer." he murmured, tonelessly, as if in a trance, "I am needed."

"Oh, _them_!" Nekros shook his head, moving his mouth closer to Baron's neck, "Why should you concern yourself with them? Don't you understand? You suffer because you're always running around, trying to save everyone. If you want people saved, why don't you take this chance to save _yourself_? You suffer because you always dwell too much on what could be."

After a little push from Nekros, Baron, immediately submitting, fell on the floor with a heavy thump,

"What you should be doing," Nekros reached out his hand, his palm raised slightly over Baron's stomach, "is rising above that." He retracted and Nekros rose up near to the ceiling. As if there had been a string between Nekros's hand and Baron's middle, Baron's whole body rose with him, his limbs and head slumping hopelessly, "to better things." The air around them grew sweet and heavy; an intoxicating perfume hung in the air around them, sweet and drowsy, one that made one's mind and body relax. But this was created by Nekros and what Nekros wanted Baron to think flowed into his head,

"And if something from the past tries to hurt you." A large violet snake slithered up from the floor through the air, dark, thick and long and began to coil around Baron's leg. Its blunt head was as big as Baron was wide. It exuded unhappiness and despair, like a Dementor, "you should throw it aside." Just as the snake's hand-long fangs into Baron's neck, Nekros grabbed hold of it, pulled it away and threw it down to the floor to burst into smoke as it had been. Nekros turned back to Baron and an almost loving look appeared on his face,

"Oh, Gabriel." He wrapped Baron's long body in his arms as he slowly glided down to earth, with the limp Baron in his arms, "I know how much you've hurt during this war." He laid Baron down on John's bed. Baron had not moved an inch on his own. As though he was in a trance. Nekros dangled the locket over his face, "Don't you want to be free of those burdensome duties as head of your side? Your efforts are completely fruitless. No matter how are you tried, you could not save everyone. So why drag this out any further? John is so longing to see you. Wouldn't you like to go to him? Wouldn't you like to stop fighting? I know where he is. I can take you to him."

Finally, Baron opened his eyes, just a little, gazing at the thing in Nekros's hand, "I must join you to see John." He raised his hand and it closed around the locket. Nekros drew an excited breath and allowed the locket to be taken from him. Baron gazed at the thing in his hand, "I seek'd him forever in the dust."

"_I know_." Nekros murmured, almost sympathetic,

"Further search shalt be better reward'd." Baron sat up and went to pick up his discarded clothes and John's journal. By the time he'd turned around, Nekros had vanished but, when Baron's back had been turned, Nekros had shouted,

"_You will be mine, Baron! I will own you!_"

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was always unpopular in the village and at the school. For numerous reasons. That offending man was at this minute storming down a back alley. _What on earth is going on here? _He had caught Draco in the high street outside the Three Broomsticks to ask him why he hadn't written but he had just stuttered a feeble excuse about having too much homework, seemingly nervous and scared. He had pressed him and then it became a very heated argument. Lucius rarely lost his temper but then, he did, sending Draco running into the pub, disappearing into the crowd, tail between his legs.

He then had to get through the Weasley twins. They ended up annoying him so much so he had jinxed them, leaving them with boils all over their faces._ Ooh, that had felt good._ He had just gone round a corner when he heard a few villagers and a few students hear their story (even their brother, the Head Boy) and call him...well, things that made Lucius very angry. _Couldn't they see they were annoying me?_

Filch had left one of the filing cabinet drawers open at Hogwarts. On top of the pile was a box meant for a penknife confiscated from Terry Boot during a Astronomy lesson. It had been securely locked but now it was open...and the penknife was not there.

Fred and George seethed in the Three Broomsticks. _How could Lucius Malfoy curse us in the streets like that?_

_No way is he going to get away with that._

"He's got our family once too often, if you ask me!" Fred slammed his hand on the table, "Ooh, we're going to get him back for that!"

"Yeah, and I've got just the thing!" George produced a chopping knife from his pocket, "Right, here's the plan."

It was nearly midday and Lucius Malfoy was in the quiet of the alley.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the pub to the twins, Draco was downing Butterbeers, trying to clear his head. He had never seen his father look so angry before. He hardly ever shouted at him either. _I can't tell Father about Nekros. He'll never believe me and, even if he did, it would cause too much of a fuss. That'll attract Nekros and it'll start all over again. _He was drinking a lot of Butterbeer. Even though it wasn't very strong, Draco felt his vision slipping a bit...

Pansy came out of the ladies toilets of the Three Broomsticks. She had been with a shaken Draco after his father had shouted at him outside. _Why on earth couldn't he tell his father anything? I can always trust Daddy._ When she got back to their table, she then saw that he was gone. _Funny._ Another odd thing was that he had left his jacket behind with no wand in his pocket.

Malfoy Senior was now halfway down the alley...

An assistant at Dervish and Bangs was checking the display cabinets, renewing charms and fixing the odd crack. Then, she noticed something very strange. A self-cleaning kitchen knife was missing along with a very expensive invisibility pendant...

Lucius then heard a sudden sound behind him that made him jolt round...

* * *

A/N: Ooooohhhhh! Cliffhanger! 


	15. Investigations

A/N I was going to leave this chapter a bit later but I am going on holiday to Tenerife right after school since it's half term (that's a week long holiday for us British kids at the halfway point of every term) and I felt I should update before I go. I have to get on one of those overnight flights and I'm really not looking forward to it. Nor am I looking forward to any half-term homework the teachers set!

**Twin Tails Speed:** Thanks again!

**cyiusblack: **Your wish is my command!

So, without any further ado, the next chapter! Look for the clue into the chapter's events in the description of the mosaic below!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 15: Investigations

"I heard what Lucius Malfoy did to your brothers, Ron." Hermione said, as they strode down a deserted road towards the town square, "I say he's going..." She looked round and saw that Ron wasn't there. _Where'd he go? _She turned back into the town square, "Ron? _Ron_?" She strode across the town square. A mosaic decorated the ground. _A memorial to the Exiled of the Seventeenth Century._ It was strangely deserted. _Where is everyone_? Indeed, there was nothing but the people painted with jewel-bright stone in the mosaic to keep her company.

She crouched down for a closer look. The piece of art was big enough for ten of her to lie across its middle. And it needed to be. For the characters were life-size. Or they were supposed to be. Hermione didn't know. Very little was known about the Exiled. That was why they were shown as cloaked and masked. Hermione took out the tour-guide book she had picked up in the post office and found the section describing the Exiled:

_In truth, comparatively little is know about the Exiled. Nevertheless, they were one of the most prominent wizards and Witches of our time. Catalu__ñ__an magical historians have reported that one of the Exiled, a witch on the Light Side whose name is unknown, came from their capital, Barcelona. 'Ultimately,' say the historians, 'she moved to England when she was young, where she had taken up residence ever since.' Beyond doubt, however, the leader of the Exiled was the famed Baron Gabriel de Cinclion, who became Baron of Hogsmeade at fourteen. Up-to-the-minute detectives of the time found undeniable evidence of this shortly after his death. Seafarers also reported...'_

"_ARGH_!"

A shout of pain coming from a narrow, dark alley jerked her from the book. She stared at a dark shape coming from it, forcing itself to take long, painful steps. It then burst from the shadows and revealed itself to be Lucius Malfoy. He was staggering forward, lurching as if stricken and clutching something on his side. Hermione gasped as he lurched forth. He then seemed to lose all strength and collapsed on the mosaic in front of the town hall.

* * *

There was absolute uproar in the village and in the school. Malfoy Senior was recovering steadily so it was clear that the crime would only be an attempted murder, not murder itself. This was a relief to his wife, who had run through the hall the next day at breakfast, screaming at Dumbledore, demanding to know what had happened to her husband.

One piece of information that had leaked out of Malfoy Manor was that they identified the wound as a deep knife wound to his side. That meant, reasoned the students, that he had been stabbed by someone. Who it was though; people had no idea. There were countless suspects. Lucius Malfoy had done something to everyone at some point.

With Madam Rosmerta, he had nearly closed her down once. Her regular customers, who had been disgruntled at this prospect, were all suspects too. All the Weasleys and all of the students who were Hogsmeade were suspected too. Friction between friends was growing ever higher than usual. Every other week, there would be vicious rumours that a certain person was Mr Malfoy's would-be killer. A team of detectives were called out to investigate the crime scene that was blocked off by opaque walls made of magically produced smoke to stop anyone going near it.

Behind the teacher's backs, the Weasley twins were doing a roaring trade of voting on who stabbed Lucius Malfoy. After a week, everyone thought that Sirius Black and Draco Malfoy were sure things. Draco had woken up the next morning with a bad headache. Apparently, he had had too much to drink in the Three Broomsticks so everyone thought that it was a possibility that he might have stabbed his father while he was drunk. Even he was worrying that it was true. After all, he didn't recall anything of that morning.

Fred and George, along with their voting business, also did spirited and melodramatic reenactments of all the different versions of the attack that their imagination could conjure up. They always portrayed the stabber as a person wearing a balaclava and carrying a rubber knife, creeping up on Mr Malfoy (Lee Jordan with a mop-head propped over his hair) and stabbing him in the back. But they were not as frequent after a few days since Percy had found out about this. Harry was in the same corridor as them when he saw Percy shouting at them,

"..._a serious matter. This could be the start of something terrible! No more of these jokes or I'll write to Mum! You two are giving the first years nightmares!_"

The twins, impervious to Percy's shouting, calmly informed him that none of the first years they had met were having nightmares. Lee Jordan then slammed the mop-head on top of Percy's head from behind and the three of them ran for their lives as Percy shouted even louder.

It was lucky that Harry and Ginny were not supposed to be in the village or they would be suspects too. Snape called a meeting a few days after the attack and Harry and Ginny came in to find four cloaks with cowls hanging up on the wall. They gave him a look that plainly said 'why'. Sabian answered that question,

"Severus is on guard duty tonight so we agreed that tonight, we should do some investigating ourselves."

"Tis well spoken!" Baron had identified criminals from investigations may time and this case sounded like a very good one to try and solve. He had a wider range of suspects in his head than others. Harry also nodded as though he thought this a good idea as well, "Shalt we from ourselves separate a night to search for what we're apt to search to uncov'r the serpent that did sting the man?"

Sabian nodded, "Aye, good idea."

"What's this thing, Zir?" Ginny asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, each of us have different talents when it came to solving mysteries." Zirconia tried on the cowl, not looking at any of them except herself in a newly conjured up mirror, "Gabriel was best at finding and interpreting evidence from the crime scene. Sabe's a expert in psychology so he's good at getting into the criminal mind and finding the evil impulses that drive them. _Para mi_, when I was younger, I really wanted to become a healer so I liked going to the hospital wing to help the matron with healing injured patients. So I like examining the victim to identify what weapons were used and any other clues. So, we did separate things in one night and put it all together the next day. It was very effective and got the case solved _muy rapido_."

"So," Sabian said, "here's the plan: as I already said, Severus is on guard of the crime scene tonight for about an half an hour. So, Harry and Gabriel could go and have a look around there for any clues. Meanwhile, Severus and me will be thinking about each of the suspects. Severus knows most about Lucius so he'll know who wants him dead. Ginny and Zir will be having a look at Lucius."

"What does that mean?" Ginny did have a strange feeling she already knew though,

"Simple," Zirconia shrugged off the cowl, "we break into the house and examine the victim."

Ginny pulled a face, "We're going to break into his _house_?"

"Of course." Zirconia said this as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "How else are we going to get to him? We're going to have to watch out for that extra security, though..."

"I," Ginny glared at her friend, "am not - repeat, am _not_ - going to go anywhere near Malfoy."

"Well then you could have a poke around in the robes he was wearing then." Zirconia shrugged, "Have a look in the pockets for any incriminating evidence _y el todo_..."

Ginny didn't look convinced but, in the end, she shrugged too, "Alright then." she then had an idea, "Hey, why don't we also use the Moon Mirror to find out any other clues from previous events!"

"Brilliant!" Harry grinned.

* * *

That night, Harry followed Professor Snape while wearing both a cowled cloak and his Invisibility cloak. Baron was behind him and, even though he was already invisble, he too had swapped his white cloak for a black cowl ("The air doth make't winter."). They went down to the square where the centre was cornered off. _Ho, the scene. _Baron's eyes were already darting here and there for anything that might have evaded the notice of the Ministry Investigators. Snape had a brief talk with the guard and after he had walked off, Snape turned round to the borders, pulled out his wand and muttered something to it.

There was no visible change but Snape beckoned them to the wall, saying, "I've deactivated the security spells surrounding it. You can go near it quite safely now."

"One problem," Harry said, suddenly realising as he looked at the wall, "how are we going to get in?" it was true; there was no visible door. Baron scratched his chin and then had a brainwave,

"Pray you, stay." he walked straight through the wall without another word. Harry frowned. _What is he doing? _Baron came back after a long while, "Ne'er exeunt ist there from this open. Hath I searched a thousand years inside, ne'er one would I find. Nay, knowest you of a path?" They all had a good think. _How were they going to get in and unlock the door for the other? _Snape's eyes flicked to the wall. _There's a lot of strong charms and spells on that wall. It'll take a lot of time to undo them all individual spell._

But he had a plan. Shrugging off his cloak, he was revealed to be wearing the Semita bells and armour. Baron smiled, "Ay, me! I forget! Eversor shalt be our kind porter." _Kind isn't a good word to describe Eversor, _Snape thought. Eversor; the Destroyer. The most dangerous of the Semita bells. She hung between her two sisters: Duxducis; the Guider, with her trademark candle, and Arbiter; the Judge, hanging on her ribbon.

Snape pulled down his visor picked up the middle one. He could already feel Eversor's overwhelming power beneath his fingers. _No wonder Sabian kept her in a sheath and removed the clapper._ Unsheathing it, some of the magic hit him in the face as it was released. He ignored it and turned to the wall. _I've got to be careful. I just need to make a hole big enough for Potter to get through. I can't let Eversor go wild and destroy the wall completely. It would take too long to remake the spells._

He clasped Eversor with both hands as a precaution. Raising to carefully, he levelled it against the wall. His eyebrows furrowed with the effort of pushing Eversor's power to the minimum he needed. It was not an easy task. Eversor had a wild nature; unlike her sisters, the sensible Arbiter and the gentle Duxducis. She did not like having to tone down her power. But Snape was her owner and he had a firm hand. She had to do what he wanted. So, reluctantly, she restrained some of her power, allowing Snape to safely stab the wall.

Once the hit was made, a hole was made where Eversor went in. She sang out her dark note and the spell wall began to vanish, making an ever increasing hole around her. Expanding to the size a sickle, then a galleon, then a basketball hoop, getting wider and wider,

"Go!"

Harry hastened to obey just as the hole got wide enough. In a wild instant, he leapt through the clear hole, just missing Eversor and landed with more grace than he had intended on the mosaic. Baron hastily followed before Snape began to close up the hole but Baron held up a hand,

"A thief that closes the mouth of his crafty entrance shalt be a fool. Never shall he make escape."

So, Snape left the hole as it was and watched them as the two started investigating. They then turned around and began their investigation. Baron whipped out a notebook and Harry strolled around, looking at the floor, "A trail of blood...he must have staggered around for a bit after he was stabbed."

"Yea...there's the thought. Yet, wherefore didst he lurch so? An apt murderer wouldst ne'er allow him to move so Death's hand couldst raught him at once…but yet…my mind doth nudge me to list…couldst this knife-bearer be not a murderer…?" Harry then remembered something he had picked up when he had got back from the Shrieking Shack and found out about the crime,

"Hey, Baron. I found this in a back alley. Where the blood trail started."

Harry handed him a shiny wand. Baron investigated every inch, giving it a little bend, "This doth be the instrument of Mr Malfoy! O, strange! Wherefore could it be so far?"

"Maybe the attacker forced it out?"

"Yea. Ne'er was the man surprised. Ist possible he was drawn when a sound distracted. Lucius Malfoy definitely realised the attacker. Never would a murderer experienced go revealed. Sirius Black was not the troubler here. Could't be done by man that ne'er saw crime nor performed? Or, a duelist, with enmity in heart and fire in soul that came before him, fought and didst attempt the murder..."

As he was talking, the words appeared on Baron's notebook, as if he was dictating this to an invisible person over his shoulder. Baron then went over to the outline on the mosaic drawn with white chalk where Mr Malfoy had fallen. A smile made his way onto his lips. The image depicted him and his fellow Exiled (of course, none of them had visible faces). After a quick look at it, he decided not to show this to Zirconia since he could see her picture and the eyes of the mask were too close together. _Ne'er did she love any man whose miscarrying brush did depict wrong!_

He then saw something. Now, the investigators hadn't noticed this but Baron's sharp eyes could pick up anything that could be a clue, "Harry, come! Prithee look where his hands doth rest." Harry looked over. _Why was that important?_ He thought. Baron pointed at the outline of the hands, "See those marks 'round the image. See where the hands rest." Harry looked and saw the hands resting on the letters J, R, I and W, "This doth the murderer point."

Baron's notebook scribbled this down. Harry stared. _How on earth was this important? It was only where his hands fell. _The spirit scratched his chin thoughtfully and then said, "Harry, how long hast't been since this knifery?"  
"Ah, the twelfth..."

"Hmm...twas Saturday...sixth of seven..."

"Okay, Baron. You've lost me."

"My mind doth whisper reasoning. Six and twelve hath visited frequent."

"Wha...?"

"Think on't. The day of this vain blow was the twelth and Saturday, sixth of seven. The Moon Mirror canst not give the attacker but canst give time. Twas middle of day and yonder tower kept time with chimes. Twas on sixth chime when Lucius bloodily appeared! I ne'er consider this coincidence."

"Sure." Harry thought Baron might be looking a bit too hard. Baron had another look around the place. Deciding that the evidence they had was all they were going to get in there, he exited the cornered off area. Harry replaced the section. Baron scratched his chin again,

"Come, get you to the alley. I shalt follow."

They strode towards the alley. Harry collected all the evidence they had so far in his head: _Lucius staggering: an amateur stabber?; a struggle?; a fight?; the numbers twelve and six?; the letters J, R, I and W?_

They entered the dark alley. Harry lit his wand so they could get a good look around. _Okay, we need a bit more evidence than we have already._ Harry's cloak then became caught on a sharp something protruding from a skip. Harry swore under his breath and pulled it free. In doing so, he noticed something. A thread of wool was caught on the sharp point and flapping in the wind. He pulled it off and held it up to the wandlight. It was green and looked like the wool that came from the Hogwarts Slytherin scarf,

"How now, Harry? What hast been donated by Fortune?"

"Yeah. Have a look." he gave the thread to Baron. Baron nodded approvingly,

"Yea, Harry. A part of the assailant hast been given int' our hands."

This new discovery prompted a forensic search of the alley. After a long search, Snape then appeared at the entrance to the alley, "Excuse me but have you two checked the time?" They looked up at the large clock tower. Five minutes to eleven. Five minutes to go until Snape changed shifts. They had to get moving! Baron realised the urgency of the situation even though he couldn't believe that it had actually been that long. He threw Harry's Invisibility cloak over him and began to hurry up the alleyway, Harry following as fast as he could.

* * *

Draco couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned but still he could not find rest. Merely because of the fact that he could not remember anything from around the time his father had been attacked. _I was drunk_ he thought _so could I have been the one who stabbed him? Or had Nekros possessed me again? No; no, I know in my heart that I could never have done a thing like that. _He restlessly moved his foot. In doing so, he jolted something out of the pocket of the robes he had been wearing on that fateful day. Something heavy. It fell onto his bedspread and...it glimmered silver in the dim candlelight.

Draco snatched it up, his heart racing. No...it was a knife...a very sharp, thin knife at that...oh no...Draco put it up to his nose and sniffed it. Blood! _Blood_! A shiver ran through Draco's body. He _had _been the one who stabbed his father. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, motionless with horror at his own doing. _No...this can't be..._

"Y'alright, Draco?"

Draco screamed, dropped the knife and pulled up the sheets up to his eyes in fright. There was another shout of shock. It had only been Theodore, "Yeesh, Draco, settle down. You seem a bit tense...hey, what's this?" He had seen the knife. Draco thought his heart might burst from him for it was beating like an executioner's drum. Theodore frowned and investigated the knife. He then...sniffed it. Draco's palms were extremely sweaty. The sheets were slipping from his grasp. Theodore's eyes widened, "Oh, Draco..."

* * *

_SNAP! BANG!_

Two Aurors brought a trembling but otherwise unresisting boy in the room, each holding one of his arms. Draco was held before their team leader. It was lit by a single bright white orb, shining behind the leader, making him a towering silhouette before Draco.

"Draco Malfoy," The deep-chested leader said, brusquely, "I hereby pronounce you under arrest for attempted murder..."  
Draco hardly heard any of what the Auror said. He could hardly believe it. He didn't _want_ to believe it. But the fact was clear. He had stabbed his own father while he was drunk! _I'll never touch another drop of Butterbeer again._ He vowed to himself._ Oh, but what's the point? That damage is done. I can't change what happened..._

"Malfoy, are you listening?"

Draco jumped, in his nervous state, "Uhh...yes, sir."

"As I was saying, you will attend a full court session to decide your sentence. Dunno why," he added, callously, "Would have chucked you straight in Azkaban if it were me. Anyway, until then, you will be kept in a high security cell in Hogsmeade Detention Centre. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, sir." came the trembling answer,

A female Auror, who was on the left side of the sharp one saying this, took pity on him. She stepped out of the darkness to make herself known, "Aww, he's scared to death. C'mon, Waller, go easy on him. He was drunk when it happened, after all. He wasn't himself…"

"The charges are still the same either way." He then glared at the two burly Aurors, holding him by the arms, "Take him away!"

* * *

The next day brought no news from the other guards that there were any break ins. That was definitely good news. That meant they had got away with it.

The bad news was that Draco had been arrested on suspicion of being his father's would-be killer. Baron had flown into a rage when heard this, insisting that Draco was not the culprit, "O, pernicious authority! Durst they still make scapegoat! Fie, a curse on them!" And he hurtled out, intent on trying to reason Draco's release with the Head of the Detention Centre.

Snape called the meeting that would put their evidence together and see what they came up with. Zirconia and Ginny had found that the knife wound was small and thin and yet it caused a lot of damage. It couldn't have been the chopping knife the twins had produced, the self-cleaning knife that had gone missing from the shop or the penknife that had gone missing. No, this was an assassin's knife; professional and deadly, "If it had pierced his heart, he would be a goner." Ginny explained,

"_Si,_" Zirconia added, "and he was awake at the time so I decided on an interview with him."

"Oh?" Snape raised an eyebrow, "What did he say the attacker looked like?"

"He said he didn't remember much," Zirconia consulted a notebook, "but he remembered him being tall, long-haired and with a well-off accent."

"Hmm," Snape said, thinking, "that wipes off two of the main suspects immediately. Black had long-hair and was tall _but _he certainly didn't have a well-off accent. As for Draco, he doesn't have long hair and he's smaller than his father. So, neither of them did it."

Baron was still gone; probably having a furious argument with the Discipline Centre employees, so Harry gave the evidence they found for him.

As Harry finished explaining Baron's bizarre reasoning about numbers and letters, Ginny pulled out a blank scroll, saying she'd found it in the pocket of the robes Lucius Malfoy wore, "I had a really weird feeling when I found this. I thought I should bring it here."

Or blank for the moment. For when she placed it on the table, it opened up on its own and words traced in blood red ink. Or was it real blood? They all read and then stared at the words formed. Snape picked it up and read it aloud:

_Know, dear enemies, of my presence. Now is the season of your woe made spring by the lightening air. And all clouds doth come o'er you and make you grim-souled. The villain-in-undeserving-arms, Nekros, doth drive blunt fright into one; I caper deftly through the hearts of all, sharply supplanting fears._

_As Baron be true and just, as I am ingenious, dishonest and underhand. I, who am deform'd, am determined to prove a villain. Nay, do not doubt, for it was I who drove that blade into that curs'd man. Think on me and let your souls despair._

Snape read out the name of the person who sent it and the two spirits froze, "Oh, no..." crossed their minds.

* * *

A/N: So, a new enemy! I've decided to make this one a bit of an anti-Baron. Y'see, I've been modelling Baron's speech around Hamlet and I'm making the new villain more like Richard the Third, if you see what I mean.

Anyway, I'll be away for a week so I'll expect lots of reviews when I get back. Cheerio!


	16. Startling Truths

A/N: Hello, again! After much procrastination, it's here! Power of the Moon; Chapter 16! We'll finally find out who attacked Lucius Malfoy!

**Twin Tails Speed: **Glad you appreciate it. (blushing)

**cyiusblack: **Hope you didn't have to wait too long.

Wow, a lot of news on the Harry Potter front. About Dumbledore...wow...it's not that I'm disgusted by it but...wow...

And that copy of 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard' on auction next month! I wonder how long it'll be until the tales are up on the Internet. I'd love to read them!

Just to let you know, I've changed an aspect of Baron concerning his blood. If you want to find out, you'll have to go back to chapter 13 to find out! It's very interesting, I assure you!

* * *

Power of the Moon 

Chapter 16: Startling Truths

"So, then, me and Jeanne had to run for our lives! Oh my God, we were running! We only just got away from it! Blimey, Jeanne was screaming so much and it was just so huge!"

"How'd you get away?"

"Well, it was really a brilliant streak of luck. I can't even believe I did. There was this crevice near the wall where we were running and I...well, I wasn't really thinking. I was in a blind panic and I dived in. Jeanne followed me and it ran straight past it, not looking back once or looking for us!"

Ron gave a laugh. Julian had just been telling him a story about when he and his older sister, Jeanne, had gone into the Forbidden Forest only to get chased by an enormous beast with long tusks. Julian laughed along with him, absently twisting his scarf around his wrist, "We laughed about it later. And the teachers never caught us. They never found out!"

Ron laughed a bit more. He'd have never got away with that if it were him. Julian then reached behind him, "Hey, you want to see something really scary?" He then pulled out a long, thin ebony black cane as big nearly as big as Ron. The top carried a silver skull with fangs for canines with a blood-red ruby-topped knife through it. Ron stared, "Spooky, eh? It used to belong to my dad. I used to borrow it for Halloween though. Could scare anyone with this."

He handed it to Ron who investigated the top. Could his ancestor really owned a thing like this? It looked rather like the cane Mr Malfoy always carried. But then, it could be to mock them. _Yeah, that sounded good._ Ron then got an idea. A little way down from the skull was another larger blood-red ruby with silver wings. One blank and one bony like a bat's wing. Exactly like the wings on that rod Julian said he'd come from. The whole top almost made it look like the hilt of a sword. Ron's curiousity took over. He gave the top a small tug and..._yes!_ It did come free of the rest of it,

"What are you doing?" Julian said, abruptly, all mirth falling. Ron didn't see the look of worry flash over his face.

Ron ignored him. He slowly pulled the ruby from the wood and..._oh, my god!_ On the other end of it was a long, thin, silver, highly polished sword, longer than any sword Ron had ever seen. Ron's eyes widened. _Why on earth would Julian's father keep a sword in his cane? _Julian had frozen. If he found out...He tried desperately to think of a plausible alibi to tell Ron when he asked the question that he knew was coming,

"Julian," Ron said, slowly, glancing at the sword and back again, "why does your father got a sword in his cane?"

Julian was visibly flustered, "Ah...well, Ron," He then thought up of something and gave it a go, praying that it would work, "you must understand that it was a very dangerous time in which we lived. People wouldn't think twice about stabbing someone in an alley..."

Ron didn't listen to anything else Julian said. The words echoed in his head..._people wouldn't think twice about stabbing someone in an alley...people wouldn't think twice about stabbing someone in an alley..._He spotted the newspaper on his bed. He picked it up then read it '_At midday on Saturday, the normally tranquil town of Hogsmeade was shaken by a most heinous crime. Lucius Malfoy, 39, was stabbed in a back alley and the assailant was nowhere in sight. A team of investigators...'_

Ron looked back to the sword and read another part '_...after an experienced Healer had examined Mr Malfoy, he has concluded that the knife would have been long, thin and sharp...'_

_This sword is long, thin and sharp! _Ron realised. He sniffed the knife. Yes, the smell of blood was still lingering on it. On the tip. He looked back to the newspaper, then to the knife and finally to Julian, who was too busy talking to realise what Ron was up to. He then caught sight of the Rod from which Julian had come from.

Then, it hit him. It hit him like a thunderbolt. It felt like ice had cascaded into his chest. Horror; pure horror came into Ron's mind as he remembered...and realised,

"...father hardly got away..."

"Wait a minute!" Ron threw down everything he was holding in a sudden rage and pointed at Julian, "_You_ did it!"

Julian jumped and pretended to be surprised but he knew what he meant, "What?...Uh...sorry?...

Ron still pointed the accusing finger and he was so angry now. He was so angry that he had been betrayed...taken advantage of...

"That's the reason I don't remember anything that day! You took me over and made me stab Lucius Malfoy, didn't you?" He breathed hard for a moment, "_Didn't you?_" he yelled again.

"Ron..." Julian said, weakly, backing away, "now, see here...you've got this wrong...I'm your friend...your ancestor...I never would have..."

"NO!" Ron wasn't going to take any more of this, "YOU'RE LYING AGAIN! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! I TRUSTED YOU AND THEN YOU...YOU PULLED A TOM RIDDLE ON ME! YOU TOOK ME OVER AND STABBED MR MALFOY! I KNOW; DON'T TRY AND MAKE AN EXCUSE! IT WAS BLOOD I FOUND ON MY ROBES AND FACE, WASN'T IT?"

Julian was silent. He was defeated. He couldn't say a thing.

"_Why was it on my face anyway?_" Ron was still yelling as he then found out what it meant by the blood being on his face and in his mouth. He pulled a face, "_That's sick! Who are you; some kind of vampire?_" Ron knew that, if he was a vampire, it would be wise not to provoke him but he was too angry to care.

Julian just sat there. There were no excuse he could make. Ron stood there, seething with anger. Julian too stood up. Instead of pulling out a wand, he took the Moon Rod from the table and gripped it with both hands. He then started to change. He grew about half a foot in height, his Hogwarts uniform changed smoothly into a white long robe and a white sort of suit underneath so he looked like a Victorian gentleman. A violet cloak flowing from his shoulders, the bottom left corner curled around his left elbow. Ron stared as his skin turned jet black like he had just been soaked in ink. His eyes turned red and his left one became concealed by a white half-mask with no eyehole covering the left side of his transformed face. His hair grew, very long, sleek and flowing loose.

His face changed dramatically from Ron's twin to a long, thin face with finely tapered, sharp features. His lips stood out in a light grey colour, pulled back to reveal sharp white teeth whose canines grew over the bottom lip ever so slightly so they would be visible even when his mouth closed.

The friendly Julian was no more. What stood before Ron now was a lanky, black-skinned, rather handsome and very angry demon-like creature, quite obviously a vampire. The thing spoke,

"Now thou knowest o'th' deed." his voice was not Julian's either. It had a distinguished accent but sounded sinister at the same time, as only a creature like that could, "Be cold and let thy heart winter! For I did stab at that dreaded Malfoy's life. For I am Cassius Incubus; father of Imperious."

"So, you're not really a Weasley then!" Ron looked straight up into his face, all too aware of how Incubus was much taller than him,"You lied about everything!"

"Nay, fool. I am of thy curséd family. Nay, twas they who set the path for me to tread and ne'er return. Of all my father's dozen, I was least ag'd and least lov'd. The first was I that chose Slytherin. That choice hath made them beasts. Twas they that were beasts! I ne'er didst them harm! But, my curse soon raught them with death and torment!"

He then looked down at Ron with the utmost distain, "Twas I that stabbed that Malfoy. What would thou say to this?"

"Why'd you do it, anyway?" demanded Ron.

"Ne'er did our houses fight when I lived. But twas I that broke that peace with bloody purpose! I sent two of those of Malfoy name unto Lucifer for payment of one Weasley being pack'd up to Heaven. To exile, I was sent. However, my knife still sticks int't and doth make affections bitter."

Ron was absolutely outraged. Certainly he too hated the Malfoys but he would never stab one of them in the street just because of their name! It was just ridiculous,

"What about Draco, then?"

Incubus sneered, "The son was the readiest one to blame. That fool, made confus'd by drink, twas I that dipp'd an innocent knife in his father's blood and placéd it upon him. Tis better consequence that the boy is mewed in the prison."

"_You BASTARD!_" Ron's voice rose up to its maximum, "_YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER - __**BASTARD**__!"_

"Peace!" Ron then realised that the sword was in Incubus's hand, "Ronald, thou art my cousin and I do love thee so," he said this as though he really didn't mean it though, "I shall shortly send thy soul to Heaven!" He raised the sword. Ron yelled and jumped out of the way just at the long weapon came down.

Incubus gave chase, jabbing and waving the sword, trying to get him. He pulled out another smaller knife that was barely three inches but looked very sharp. In doing so, he ripped the hangings and made a gash in the pillow. Two seconds later, that pillow went straight through the window. Ron tried to hide behind a trunk but, with terrible strength, Incubus threw it aside and, on contact with the wall, the lock smashed apart, sending the trunk's contents everywhere. Ron leapt out the way and the knife just grazed his ankle. Ron hurried from the room in a blind panic. He locked the door with a spell and pushed against it with all his might to keep Incubus away.

After a while, Incubus stopped trying to push the door open. Ron panted, trying to calm himself down. Before he could get himself together though, he heard the sound of breaking wood. He looked to his left and saw Incubus's sword withdraw from a hole inches from his left ear. He lost his head and made a bolt for the staircase. He could hear the door smash to pieces. _I've got to find someone to help! _He hurried down the stairs and into the dreadfully empty common room.

As he ran, he pulled down chairs and the table, hoping to stall Incubus, though he had a strong feeling that it wouldn't. He pulled the Fat Lady open and panted at her, "Don't...let...anyone...out!"

"Why not, dear?" she raised an eyebrow, looking at his desperate expression, "Are you being chased by someone?"

"Yeah! Please?" Ron clasped his hands together as if praying.

"Alright then. I'll do by best to keep them in. You'd better run along."

Ron didn't need telling twice. He wanted to put as much difference as possible between him and Incubus. He took to his heels and ran along the corridor. He had hardly gone around the corridor though when suddenly, there was a terrible screech, accompanied by the ripping of a canvas. _He's got through the Fat Lady! _He hurried along the corridor, praying that Incubus didn't catch him.

He ran down the staircase in a blind panic. Professor McGonagall was walking up the stairs the other way and she was very nearly knocked back down again when Ron knocked into her and sent the books she had been carrying flying. Pages of homework scattered in the air. He didn't hear her shouting though. The trouble he'd get in for that would be nothing compared to the trouble he would get in if Incubus caught him. He hurried along a corridor (he didn't know or care which floor) and then caught sight of an open door.

_The trophy room! It might be my only chance! Thank God this is always unlocked._ He ran into the large room and looked around. A place to hide; anywhere! He frantically looked in all the cupboards, throwing down the trophies within. Shelves; nowhere for him! He looked around as he heard a floorboard creak outside. He was running out of time! He saw a table with a cloth over it that went down to the floor.

He threw himself underneath and pulled out his wand, just in case. He had to at least stand up to him if it came to it! There was a heart-stopping pause as he crouched there, listening hard. After a while, Ron calmed down a bit. _Maybe Incubus had given up the chase and gone? _He made a tiny cautious movement to try and ease himself out but then the door began to open. He froze and scrambled back under; praying that he hadn't made a noise.

He watched through a gap between the cloth and the floor as the door swung slowly open. Ron remained crouched under the table, so scared that he could barely breathe. He remained unnaturally still, even though his whole being was shaking to the bone. A pair of white, pointed shoes with tailored white trousers along with the white hem of his coat and violet hem of his cloak were just visible at the door along with the end of a cane_. It's him! Oh God! Oh God, don't let him catch me!_ Incubus stepped slowly into the room, "Ron?" he called, scarily playful, "O...Ron? Where art thou, Ron? Art thou afeared?" He wrenched open a cupboard door. He was looking for him, "Come forth, Ron. Come forth; come forth! Come forth; come! Play; play for Cassius Incubus."

Ron made an uneasy movement backwards as he moved closer to his hiding place. In doing so, he slightly pulled the tablecloth and knocked down one of the trophies. Ron closed his eyes for a moment in dread. _Oh no!_ He dared a look as the offending trophy rolled away and came to a stop on the other side of the room. There was a pause and then, Incubus began to move towards it. Ron glanced from him to the open door. _The way was clear! A chance!_

He made a snap decision, took a deep breath and lunged out from under the table, not caring how much noise he made. He hurried for the door but, just as his fingers came into contact with the handle:

SLAM!

The door was sucked shut as if by a strong wind. Ron pulled desperately at the door handle. _It's locked! _He was trapped and he knew it. Trapped with him...Ron slowly turned to face Incubus who had his arm raised and was wearing a cruel smile, "Didst thou suppose I should be played fool?" He shook his head, cackling, "Ne'er shall you play again, witless thing." He then began to advance on him, slowly removing the knife from the cane.

Ron frantically pulled at the door handle._ It's a no go! _He tried to back away around the room, ducking behind a glass case on a wooden pedestal. Incubus grabbed the side and pulled it ruthlessly aside. The glass shattered with an almighty CRASH and the trophies and shields clattered and clanged to the floor. _Oh please let someone hear that! Please let someone come!_

Just then, a mew could be heard from outside. Incubus turned and then, Filch came through the door. _Wow, I never thought I'd be glad to see him! _Filch looked just about as set to kill as Incubus, "What's going on here? Bloody students, always...my sweet? What is it?" Mrs Norris's fur had stood up on end as she stared at the black skinned man, arching her back with obvious fear.

Incubus scowled at her. He hated cats! Filch then looked up, "Mrs Norris, what's...ohhhh!" He gasped when he saw him. Incubus threw off his mask and was upon him in an instant. There was a flash of silver and Filch was speared on his long sword. The warm blood spouted over the cold metal. Mrs Norris squealed and made a bolt for the door. Incubus grasped her in his hand before she had reached it and, without even bothering to open it, threw her out of the window. Her squeals faded and, after a tense pause in which Ron knew what was going to happen, there was a dull thud.

A terrible silence reigned. Incubus then pulled his sword away so the lifeless Filch clunked to the floor, the blood-coated sword falling from his hand. He bent over the wound in his chest and put his lips to it. The inch-long fangs sank into the skin and he began to drink his blood,

"AAARRRGGGHHH!" Ron let out a terrible scream, frozen to the spot with fear and disgust. Incubus didn't listen. He took a mouthful and then, spat it out, sending it flying across the room,

"What sullied blood! Thou rash, intruding earth!" Ron then saw Filch's face. It was frozen in an expression of pure horror. The eyes were staring, stiff and swollen. He shook more violently than ever. After a while, Incubus stood up with his back to him. He said in a quiet voice,

"Art thou such a fool, Ron? Fools doth dance in Dante's fire. Shalt thou scorch thy skin? Fires, I shall ignite with my rapier and send thy soul unto't e'er your tongue reveal me. Twas demon to Lucius's eye, that he didst fight me to I strike from goodly sight. Twas not a goodly sight he beheld when he plucked my veil asunder. Nay, 'the devil; tis a devil' cries he, as my dagger falls with no wand to hinder't! My damnéd face is devilish; my victims shalt see the Devil e'er they o'ercross to his realm! Shalt thou behold't? Shalt thou think me a demon? This shalt be thy final sight e'er you speak of me past this night."

He turned. Oh, what a horror Ron beheld! The part of his face...he couldn't even call it a face now!...that had been covered by the half-mask before was a horrid reddish brown. The skin had been peeled away and the discoloured muscle underneath was crinkled like it had been burnt. The eyebrow was just a few hairs clinging onto the sinew that were stuck together with accumulated, dried blood. As for the eye..._oh, God!..._there was not a right eye to be seen. It was just a gaping, black hole in which Ron could vaguely see the burnt muscle that was the back of the eye socket.

On top of that, blood was smeared on his face and fingers and was in his mouth. His tongue came out and licked some of the blood still stubbornly clinging to his lips.

Ron screamed again; so loud and long that it hurt his throat to do so. The monster's lips curled into a smile. He bared his teeth; teeth that were stained with blood. Ron's world than swam and he staggered back into the wall and slumped down it in a dead faint, the scream of terror fading from his lips.

* * *

Ron woke in the hospital wing. He did not open his eyes at first. _What if __**he**__ was there? _He could hear voices around him. They were worried, tense, terrified...Just then, Incubus's face swam into his mind in full focus and clarity. Every detail, every wrinkle of that monstrous face in frightening sharpness. The teeth covered in blood, the hole that had once been an eye and the terrible smile...

He screamed again and shot up in a cold sweat as though he had woken from a nightmare. The chatter around him abruptly stopped. Ron clutched his bed sheets so much that his knuckles were white. His whole body shook uncontrollably. He lurched forward…and vomited onto the white linen. The voices started again but, this time, he could hear what they were saying,

"Get Madam Pomfrey! He's ill!"

"Ron? Ron, can you hear us?"

He didn't pay any attention. The whole of the situation then came upon his memory like a ton of bricks: Julian's betrayal...his true side...the panic... running... hiding...being cornered...Filch and Mrs Norris...both dead...Incubus drinking blood...his face...his horrible, inhuman face...Ron lurched forward again but this time, he covered his face with his hands and cried, curling up into a small ball. Now, he just wanted to hide. He wanted it all to be a nightmare. He wanted someone to tell him it had never happened...

"Don't," crooned a voice to his left and he felt gentle arms furl around him, "don't, Ron...It's okay. You're safe...It's over."

"His face..." Ron sobbed, "...it was horrible..."

"Shh..." whispered the voice, "Don't think about it. Just lie down."

His vision came into sharper focus so he took his hands away from his face. He could see Madam Pomfrey scrubbing his bedcovers whilst trying to look into his face. He looked around to his left. Hermione was hugging him, brushing against his shoulder with her head with affection, "Hermione..." he said in a low voice. He hugged her back, leaning his head on hers. It was good to have a friend with him now. They remained in that posistion for some time before they slowly, reluctantly let go.

Hermione brushed aside some hair that had become stuck to his face from sweat, looking worried, "Oh, Ron! When we found you in the trophy room with Filch's body...oh, we were so worried that you were dead at first."

"You...found me first?"

"No, Ginny did and I was on my way back from the library when I heard her scream and came in."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Don't worry. Ron - ah - this may be a bad time but...who was it that killed Filch?"

Ron opened his mouth to answer but then, Incubus's words came back into his mind:_ Fires, I shall ignite with my rapier and send thy soul unto't e'er your tongue reveal me…This shalt be thy final sight e'er you speak of me past this night..._the words froze in his throat and he just said,

"Sirius Black."

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think to Incubus, eh? Pretty cool for a villain, isn't he? I think I like him, as an author, more than I do Nekros. 


	17. Many Meetings

A/N: Sorry about that. Really big procrastination there.

**cyiusblack:** Your wish is my command.

* * *

Power of the Moon 

Chapter 17: Many Meetings

The office was quiet. No usual noise of students passing could be heard outside. Fudge turned to Dumbledore again, for the sixth time during their meeting, "Albus, all this events...Do you think that...well, perhaps...these events may be connected?"

"A thought that has often passed my mind, Cornelius." Dumbledore traced a finger across his desk, "Though, God knows what Black may be planning next. I do not know what goes on inside his head."

"Neither do I, to be honest. And I don't really want to know!" Fudge shook his head, "But, after the post-mortem, it was revealed that the weapon that was used to kill Mr Filch was the same sort that was used to injure Malfoy. A lot longer, of course. Just speared through the heart with it. And with a powerful bit of magic in it. The sort of sword that belongs to professional assassins! Draco Malfoy had one of those but he's locked up. It couldn't have been him!"

"Indeed, it could not." Dumbledore went back into deep thought. He did not like to think that one of his students was a potential murderer. Fudge, however, broke his thoughts again by saying,

"That Draco Malfoy is a strange case, you know. Of course, there are no Dementors in the detention centres; Heaven forbid we let them near that place when we can help it! But…well…if you saw him, you'd know what I mean. I visited the Hogsmeade Detention centre just a couple of hours ago before I heard of the murder and I saw him in his cell. It was like he _was _in Azkaban! Muttering to himself, unresponsive, in a complete world of his own…"

This brought Dumbledore out of his reverie, making him look round, "Go on. Have you heard what he mutters?"

"The staff told me," Fudge explained, spinning his bowler hat, "that, from what they have seen, he thinks that there is some nightmarish…thing with him in his cell. He's always telling it to go away and leave him alone."

"Hallucinations?" Dumbledore tented his fingers, becoming more and more worried by the minute,

"Yes, and, from what they told me he said, it sounds like he's been having them for a while. He's been saying things like 'I've had enough' and 'can't you give me a moment's peace.' And, that's not all, Albus." The bowler hat was now a lime-green blur, it was being spun so fast, "The guards told me that he's been keeping all the other inmates awake with screaming in his sleep. Yes, screaming! They'd had to move him to a more private cell and tried to give him counseling but nothing so far has worked."

Fudge moved a little closer to the desk, "The boy is unhinged, Dumbledore. It makes it all the more likely that he _did_ attack his father, you know. Even if he didn't realise he was doing it. He might have-"

But he was cut off by Snape's return, bringing a nervous Ron in tow, "Ah, thank you, Professor Snape. Mr Weasley. do take a seat."

Ron came into the room nervously and sat down on the chair that Dumbledore produced from thin air. Fudge stood up and strode away so he was standing by the fireplace. Snape retreated into the shadows to listen. The invisible Sabian was at his shoulder, peering over at Ron, who was sitting in the chair with his hands clasped on his lap, "Do you think that Dumbledore might be able to get Ron to tell him about Incubus?"

_Well, he knew that he was lying the first time, _said Snape in thought, _maybe he'll push Weasley into telling the truth this time. Good at finding things out, Dumbledore._

Dumbledore gave Ron a friendly, warm smile though plainly saying (to Snape, anyway) 'I want you to tell me the truth', "Now, Ron. I'm afraid I have to ask you again for details about Mr Filch's murder."

Ron gulped and said, with many pauses, "Well...I was having a look around the trophy room and, then, Mr Filch came in. He was about to say something when Sirius Black just came out of nowhere and...well, I didn't see the knife go in but, when he ran off, Mr Filch; he was dead. That's what happened, sir. That's all I saw."

Dumbledore's smile faltered a little. His voice contained a little hint of sternness, "Ron, I want the truth. Was it Sirius Black who stabbed him?"

"Yes, sir." Ron nodded. Snape gave Dumbledore a look. _He knows..._

"Are you sure now?"

This time, Ron was beginning to falter. _He's not a good liar._ Snape commented to Sabian. He broke his gaze with the Headmaster and looked down at his clasped hands, now shining with sweat, "Yes, sir." he whispered, sounding forced. The Headmaster seemed to realise that Ron was on the edge of revealing forbidden information but was still afraid. He went around the desk and placed a hand on the nervous student's shoulder,

"Ron, is there something...that you want to tell me? Never fear; no one else is in this room to hear this apart from me and Cornelius." He didn't know Snape was in the shadows.

_Want a bet?_ Snape thought, glancing at Sabian. Sabian grinned, awkwardly,

"I'm a spirit. I dunnae count!"

Snape turned his Moon Eye on the nervous boy. Ron's thoughts were in turmoil. _Could I tell Dumbledore? No, Incubus said he'd kill me if he told anyone and...well, I don't want to see that face again! But then, Dumbledore is said to be the most powerful wizard of all time. Surely he could fend off Incubus if it came to it? If he can't, no one can._

Dumbledore watched as Ron hesitated and then he said in a rush, "No...yes! There is, Professor."

The old Headmaster smiled encouragingly. Fudge, who had been looking out of the window until then, jerked his head back to the office. Snape stared, leaning forward slightly. _Would he tell him? _Sabian too stared. _Surely not! Incubus had made a death-threat!_

"Yes, Mr Weasley?"

"It..." it sounded like he was seriously having to force out the words. Almost vomiting them out, "it's that...Black...he wasn't the murderer! He didn't stab Mr Malfoy either! It wasn't...Draco either...Black and Draco are both...innocent!"

Fudge gasped, clapping his hands to his mouth. Snape felt like furrowing his eyebrows. _It sounds like he actually wants to tell him! _Sabian looked quite surprised but at the same time, impressed ("There was nae a person who confessed to Incubus's actions in my time! Och, these present-day humans have got more backbone than I thought!"). Dumbledore urged him on,

"If Black didn't do it, then who did?"

Ron was clasping his hands so tight that, without realising it, his fingernails were digging grooves into his flesh. He began to whimper as the memory of his face and his voice came into his mind, "His face..." he whispered, not really knowing what he was saying., "...his horrible face...all black...all burnt...all rotten!" He buried his face in his hands, curling up in his chair and sobbing. Sabian nodded,

"Aye, I know how he feels. Incubus's face is a devil's. He can scare anyone with what's under that mask of his."

_Can't be any worse than what's under ours._ Snape thought, dismissively.

Dumbledore waited patiently for Ron to stop. Fudge, meanwhile, was jotting this down with a quill with increasing disbelief. Snape was quickly sending a message for Baron Zirconia to come to the office quickly since he had heard the bell go a few minutes earlier. Ron stopped sobbing after a while and murmured, more to himself than anyone, "I thought he was a friend. I trusted him. He came into my room when I was alone...and he'd talk to me. We'd chat about stuff. Had no idea…Don't remember anything of the Hogsmeade trip when the stabbing happened."

He wailed, hysterical, "It was him! I found out on the day...the day when Filch was killed. He showed me a cane. Said it was his father's. Found a sword in it; a dirty, great big sword! It smelled of blood. Saw a newspaper on the bed and realised. Shouted at him. Then...he transformed..."

"Transformed?" Fudge was startled._ This was making no sense of this whatsoever! _"What on earth do you mean?"

"He turned into a...into a vampire! He told me...that he hated the Malfoys and...he had just stabbed Lucius and framed Draco...out of pure spite! He took his knife and swiped it at me. I ran from him and hid in the trophy room. But he caught me! Then, Filch came in and saw him. He then...he stabbed Filch in the chest and threw Mrs Norris out of the window!"

Baron then came through the door at this point with Zirconia in tow, "Why, how now?" he whispered to Sabian, while taking in the hysterical Ron and the other two men.

"Well, believe it or nae, Gabriel, he's actually telling them what happened! All about Incubus's actions!"

"_Realmente_?" Zirconia put in as Baron strode unseen into the room to have a good look at Ron, "No one did that in our time! I had to use my Mirror all the time! Getting the right date was such a pain!"

Ron continued since neither him nor Dumbledore nor Fudge had seen or heard them come in, "He then bent over him...and...and he..." He covered his face, "...drank his blood!" He forced out. Fudge gasped in horror. Baron pulled a face,

"Twas a vampire of dreadful note!" He shook his head, disgusted.

Dumbledore (who had not heard a word of that conversation) had stiffened at the mention of drinking blood,

"Are you sure?"

"Yes; yes, I'm sure!" he nodded, hoping he would never have to repeat this, "Then, he straightened up and he threatened to kill me if I told anyone!' And his mask was off...he showed me his face!"

He put his face in his hands, moaning again. It was plain that he wouldn't give any more details about what he saw. Dumbledore patted his shoulder,

"Oh, you poor boy!" said Fudge, "This vile creature will be stopped, don't you worry! Do you think you could give me his description, Ron?"

* * *

Within an hour, Ron had described Incubus. Dumbledore had thought it best for Ron to stay at his house for his own safety so he left via Dumbledore's fireplace back to the Burrow not a second too soon. Reporters from the _Daily Prophet_ burst into the office a matter of minutes after he had left. They promised to keep Ron anonymous though for security reasons but they were saying that would be headline news. Indeed it was. On the front cover of the _Prophet_ that morning was a sketch of what they thought Incubus looked like from Ron's description and the headline: _SIRIUS BLACK AND DRACO MALFOY: INNOCENT OF MURDER! INCUBUS: ANYTHING BUT!_ This caused quite a sensation in the Great Hall,

"_Another_ criminal?"

"This one sounds worse than Black!"

"_A vampire!_"

"Aren't they supposed to be controlled by the Ministry?"

"This one must have got away!"

This was rounded off by Lee Jordan groaning, "Aw, I was sure that it was Draco!"

Snape then called a meeting that evening to tell Ginny and Harry the details of Ron's confessions that hadn't made the _Prophet_, including the news of Draco's madness, which Baron seemed rather worried about,

"So, he didn't say anything about the Moon Rod then?" Ginny asked, after he'd finished. Snape shook his head, He then leaned forward,

"I'll tell you something else though. I read his mind using the Moon Eye to get other bits of information he neglected to tell Dumbledore and Fudge and I found out quite a shocking piece of information about Incubus."

"What?"

"Well, Miss Weasley, you are going to hit you hard but ... Well ... Incubus ... is a Weasley."

There was a moment of silence. Ginny stared, with her mouth wide open, a look of pure horror on her face. _No way! There is no way that could be true! _She then said, "Incubus...is my ancestor?"

"The Eye never lies, Miss Weasley." Snape sighed,

"Dunnae worry, lassie." Sabian said, sympathetically, seeing her face, "Every flock of sheep has its black one. At least your family is nae like that; think of it that way."

Snape then said, "Shh!" holding up a finger, "Did you hear something?" They strained their ears for any noise. They looked toward the door. Harry then heard it. A cold, aristocratic voice but not Lucius Malfoy's (he had taken to staying in Hogwarts until Incubus was caught) was audible outside accompanied by footsteps going past,

"...tis Ronald. Aye, tis he! How the worms shall feast upon him..."

"_Tis Incubus!_" Baron hissed, "Nay!" He held out his hand as Harry made to stand, "Stay you a while. The Medallion's the thing. Under your gabardine shalt you walk with the fiend, Harry." And, to Harry's astonishment, Baron pulled out from behind his back, his Invisibility Cloak,

"How - how d'you…?"

"'Tis strong with spells, to make you unseen. 'Tis strange." Baron said, with the same air Ollivander used before he'd told Harry about how his wand was connected with Voldemort's. Harry remembered this and began to dread the answer when he said,

"Why's it strange?"

"Hast it long? Its years?"

"Uh…" He hadn't thought of that. How long had the Invisibility Cloak been in his family? All Harry knew was that his father had once owned it, "…it used to belong to my dad…"

"Past twice ten years." Baron frowned thoughtfully, "Ne'er a strange thing hath I seen."

"Indeed, Sir." Snape nodded, "Invisibility Cloaks don't normally last that long. It should have turned opaque by now."

Baron frowned in thought for a moment. Then, said, "'Tis no matter. Yare, Harry! After the villain!"

Harry threw the cloak over himself and hurried from the office and down the corridor after the red-haired man ahead as quietly as he could.

Incubus unknowingly led them out into the empty Great Hall and through the doors into the night. His shadower looked back to check that no other people had realised him there. Harry then plunged into the dark grounds, following the dark shape that was Incubus. Unknowingly, he led him into the forest and down the path. He walked on, none the wiser of the boy following him. Then, he came into a clearing where another shadowy cloaked figure was standing, this one shorter than Incubus.

The horned helmet gave him away easily. Harry ducked behind a tree, careful to make as little noise as possible. Incubus then got down on one knee, lowered his hood and bowed his red head in respect, "Master," he whispered, with an oily tone in his voice that sounded just as bad as the normal mocking edge, "welcome. Ne'er did I expect thou most honored to appear."

The standing person pushed back his cloak to reveal his clothes. Yes, it was Nekros, his armour glimmering in the moonlight, and he did not look at all pleased to see him. In fact, he looked _very_ angry. A heap of black robes at Nekros's feet whimpered, "I'm afraid I don't share your...pleasure, Incubus."

"What means thee, Master?" he raised his head and saw his expression. He realised where this was going. He was in trouble. Big trouble...He stood up nervously. Nekros began to advance on him, every step echoed of ever-growing rage,

"I have heard tell that you killed the caretaker up at the school. However, he is of little importance and that does not trouble me. What does draw my attention though is the fact that, before that, you attempted to murder Lucius Malfoy."

The heap made a small noise; it was Malfoy, lying at Nekros's feet, seemingly too frightened to move or even look at either of them. Incubus took steps backwards as Nekros towered over him in rage. He was starting to think that perhaps coming here was a bad idea. Nekros then whispered in an indescribably angry tone, "How dare you..." He then lost all control and bellowed so loud that the red haired spirit actually fell over, "HOW DARE YOU ATTACK HIM! MY HOST IS A MALFOY AND THAT MAKES THE MALFOYS MINE TO DO WITH AS I PLEASE! I HAVE BRANDED MY CREST INTO THE BOY! THAT MEANS THAT THEIR CHAINS ARE MINE!"

He grabbed Malfoy by the hair (making him cry in pain) and pulled up his shirt to reveal a brand that Harry couldn't see clearly but could make out the letter N in the centre.

"_That's the problem with him_." Zirconia's voice came into his head, "_He's so childish and possessive_."

"Master!" cried Incubus, desperately not wanted to make Nekros shout, the oily tone stubbornly present, "Master, I implore thee! Had I but known..."

"YOU DIDN'T BOTHER TO FIND OUT, DID YOU? YOU ARE NOT FOOLING ME! IT HAS BARELY BEEN A MONTH SINCE YOU FOUND YOUR CHOSEN ONE AND YOU HAVE ALREADY DISPLAYED OPEN INSOLENCE!"

"My Count Nekros!" Incubus grovelled at Nekros's feet in a way that didn't suit him one bit, "I crave thee pardon; I am but a poor, loathsome gargoyle that plays naught but folly to fear. 'Twas not designed-"

_Liar,_ Harry thought, disgustedly,

"-but he dares me to't. 'Twas merely a poor reprisal. I crave thee, most illustrious Master, a shred of mercy for thy humble servant..."

"_Humble_?" a derisive, female, wicked voice came from the shadows, "Ha!"

A woman emerged from the shadows but a woman unlike any the hiding group had seen in their lives. She, like Incubus and Nekros, had jet black skin and red eyes. She bore the untidy look of one that had come off badly in a bloody battle and been a prisoner of war. She was masked so none of them could see her face and most they saw of her hair was the black shawl that covered it.

Most of her body was covered by a long violet surcoat, from where pointed red shoes peeped out of the bottom and a hood was firmly pulled over her head. Under that, her yellow dress had only one sleeve. The sleeve of her left arm had been ripped off entirely and her right sleeve was...empty. There was no hand sticking out from it and no arm to give it life. It just hung limply by her side. She wore a silver compass with the Moon symbol clamped onto her wrist, glimmering in the light, like an oversized watch.

Many glittering rings adorned her fingers; her arm was decorated with bracelets shoved right up to their limit; pearls and strings of jewels hung from her strong-boned neck and they could see a cruel golden crown standing firmly on her head. The truely scary thing was that the clothes was deep red up to her waist. Almost like it had been dipped in blood or...she had been wading in it.

Draco stared at her, having probably never seen a woman like that in his life. When Nekros saw her, his whole mood changed entirely. He threw out his arms as though welcoming her to a dinner party, "Onyx! Why, how lovely to see you! You're just in time. I was just about to remind this fool of what happens when he displeases me."

She cackled, ignoring Draco, "Excellent; wouldn't miss it for the world. What's he done this time?"

Nekros sighed, like a parent describing their child's naughty antics, "He's only gone and attacked one of the Malfoys. The family that is mine to do with as I please." He gave Draco's hair another tug,

"Oh," she lowered herself, "so this is your host." She took Draco from him and looked at his face, "Ickle baby Malfoy." She lowered her masked face to him, "What a weak little wretch. Malfoys always are." She threw him back to the ground and put on a tone that reminded Harry strongly of Peeves, "tut, tut, tut, Cassius! Naughty; naughty, you're too haughty! I would have thought that you would be going for your _own_ family. I mean, there are so many people in it. I'm really jealous of you. After all, the more; the merrier!"

"No interest hath I in them, Onyx." growled Incubus from the ground, "So, hold thy _tongue_."

Onyx had probably scowled, " So _rude_! By the way, Jean," she placed a hand on his armoured chest, "did you know Incubus's host then told that fumbling Minister and that doddering old Headmaster everything. Huh! Some host you've got! Count Nekros broke his whimpering host," She nudged Draco with her boot, "within a matter of minutes and Incubus can't even keep his quiet! Just goes to show why you are our master, _Jean_."

Incubus scowled privately. _Oh, Onyx, 'twas best loved. She, that adulteress, that foul strumpet, hath such underservéd power. But, I, she cannot surpass! Her false face doth make her high. 'Twas so in life. Her tongue, 'tis glazed with honey! 'Tis not justice!_

Nekros was laughing loudly, "You call the Headmaster doddering?"

"I do." Onyx put on a 'this-is-too-obvious' voice, "Have you seen him? He's so old that I'm surprised that he hasn't long retired! Working with kids at that age, I mean to say!"  
"Now then, Onyx," Nekros said, holding up a hand but looking amused all the same, "You mustn't underestimate people. You remember I told you about when I sent the Dementors to the first Quidditch match? He fought them off with quite a powerful Patronus. He's not as doddering as you would think. After all, age is wisdom, my dear. Not so in this case, however. Incubus, stand up!"

Incubus did so. _O, God! _He gulped, mentally bracing himself. There was a terrible pause then, Nekros thrust out his arms to him, palms facing him. Incubus was thrown back by the invisible spell, pinned to the floor, unable to move. Nekros then pulled his left hand back and then thrust it out again like he was bringing down an invisible whip. Incubus felt that whip. He cried out in agony. The woman called Onyx watched this with increasing glee as Nekros repeated the motion with increasing vehemence and Incubus was thrown into increasing agony. Draco, who looked like he knew what was going on, looked on with fear.

After about twenty 'lashes' (Onyx was laughing madly along with Nekros), the blond-haired man lowered his hands and the red-haired one lay on the floor, panting, his hair splayed out over a wide area of ground. He covered his face with his hands as if he was crying but he was doing it to disguise the scowl. _O, loathéd whip! _Once again, as he always did after the punishments, he wished that he was leader of the Dark Sorcerers. _Shalt I rise, I shall take that jack and stripe him tenfold more!_

"Get up."

Incubus didn't move; partly from the fact that he was still recovering from the punishment and partly from one last spark to be rebellious.

"Get up, Incubus! Do you look for a second round of whipping, you slime-haired, long-fanged freak?"

Silently fuming with mutiny, he slowly got to his feet, trying to retain what little dignity he had left. He picked up his cane and the Moon Rod, both of which he had dropped when he had fallen to the ground. He leaned on his cane, not sure whether his legs would support him after being subjected to that punishment. Onyx gave another derisive laugh, sending another stab at Incubus's pride,

"Well, well, Incubus, look at you. Leaning on your staff like an old man looking vainly for a place to die!"

Nekros chuckled, taking her in his arms, "You haven't changed a bit over the years." He then pulled his helmet up just enough to reveal his black lips and kissed her sensually on the neck. His lips roamed her skin for about a minute. Draco looked pointedly away. When they eventually broke apart, Nekros pulled his helmet back down then whispered, "I will bring you both here to a meeting to plan our next attack. Incubus," he turned to him, who was rubbing his arm, trying to make the ache go away, "if I catch any whisper that you have done any other activity to harm the Malfoys, then I will come to you in the black of some terrible night and I will make you wish you never saw the sun go down! I will watch out of the Malfoy boy's eyes and I will know!"

Incubus lowered his head, "I shall obey you."

With that, he swept from the clearing, dragging Draco behind, leaving Incubus and Onyx standing there. The hiding boy watched them look at each other for a moment. Onyx then swaggered up to him, looking to where Nekros had disappeared to make sure he had gone. A great change suddenly came over her. She then pulled him up to his feet so he was standing properly, "Alright, Cassius, I know you. You didn't stab Malfoy because of the Weasley-Malfoy rivalry. You care nothing for that anymore. And it _certainly_ wasn't an accident. Do you take us for idiots? You can't fool anyone with that. What's this really about?"

Incubus's eye too flicked back to check their master had gone. He then said, "Malfoy, 'tis a man of note. But, by Saint Paul, I would have made worm's meat of him. They do me wrong and I will not endure't. Thou knowest my plans. The men of Items doth unveil to this occasion ..."

"Ah, now I see!" Onyx nodded, knowingly. She had seen this before, "Still gnawing away at that bone, are we? Nekros knows who the other Moon Item holders are, you know..."

"Go to him; I shall not!" Incubus acted as though he had been insulted, "I unfurl my devices only to thee."

"Your plans are still in motion?" Onyx had probably raised an eyebrow,

"Aye, and hath not wavered, Lady Onyx. God take that fool, Nekros, and torment him mightily! For I will be the Lord of us! For I am the more threatening; strength'd; have more years and that hath importun'd me with maturity and wisdom beyond his! If fortunes thrust me forth a favour of an Item, shalt I make my strength double and shall Nekros o'erthrow! With thou as Incubus's mistress..." he then drew her close with an arm around her waist. She gave a small gasp of surprise and then giggled. He then said in a seductive whisper, "...if thou shall have me."

Baron, Zirconia and Sabian's voices all came into Harry's head. They thought Onyx only had eyes for Nekros and Incubus only had eyes for himself. "_What is going on?_" wondered Sabian. There was a pause then Onyx whispered,

"I must remain the dutiful servant to the current Count. However, if you succeed in your missions, then I will come to you. And, if you should need my assistance, I would be happy to help you."

"I ask not for aid, fair Countess." Incubus replied, smoothly,

The female slipped her one arm around his neck and drew herself closer. Their noses (or, the nose of Onyx's mask) were almost touching. She said in barely a whisper, "Then, what do you ask for?"

"Assurance of thy renounce of Nekros. Be like his innocent flower but be my serpent under't."

"It will be done, Count Cassius hereafter. As for Nekros, hah!" she laughed again, "I care nothing for him! He is nothing more than a childish brat. I know who he really is. I know his most dark and shameful secret. I have no interest for him."

"What ist you speak of?" Incubus looked interested, eager to her this,

Onyx gave a small laugh, wagging a finger teasingly, "You will know in good time. Come; I expect you want to discuss things with me."

With that, they swept from the clearing and through the forest. Sabian called Harry to come back to the castle. When Harry reached Snape office again, Baron seemed subdued.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I'm losing reviewers a bit. Plz review! 


	18. Another Attack

A/N: Yo! I am not dead! I've just been severely procrastinating (again!). So, Christmas is drawing near again! I dunno whether or not that'll slow down updates. We'll just have to wait and see.

_Baron: It would cheer my weary spirit to see thee continue this chronicle._

And it would cheer my weary spirit too, Baron. I wish I could work faster! Bet you all wish that too (guilty look).

* * *

Power of the Moon 

Chapter 18: Another Attack

"What do you reckon this secret is?"

"I dunno. Bet it's really important though!"

Harry and Ginny were sitting in the Common Room near the fire. Hermione was in the library and nearly everyone else was outside so they got some privacy. It was the day after they had watched the Dark Sorcerer meeting. A new caretaker had been hired: a younger man and a true wizard but a much more bitter one. He was, in fact, Filch's brother, who had not taken kindly to the old Filch's murder or to any of the students. Obviously, the students concluded, this feature ran in the family.

It was a mild day, threatening rain though. Both their spirit friends had made themselves look solid since they had a bit of privacy. Baron was sitting on the windowsill, looking out at the grounds and looking at them from side on. Zirconia was sitting next to Ginny on the sofa, experimenting with nail varnish. In the short time in which she had been in the present day, she had been fascinated by the make-up that was available and revealed herself to be very obsessed with her appearance. _A common thing with girls. _Harry thought, as Zirconia carefully coloured a nail bright pink. _Dunno why._

Baron was only half listening to their conversation. _Onyx knowest of this_..._the secret; tis dark and shameful. Tis a secret of Nekros and I_. _Tis mine in flesh and soul_. The fact that Onyx knew most unsettled him. _That's not so good. Canst she become mute to't? Canst the lean Cassius be deaf to't?_ Baron clasped his hands on his lap and glanced at Harry and Ginny who were chatting happily and Zirconia who was carefully doing her nails.

_No, know of it, they shall not._ He looked back at the window, _Tis not the climate_.

"Hey! Earth to Baron!"

He was jerked back to the present when Harry waved a hand in front of his face, He looked back to them, "Your pardon." he turned from the window, "Your pardon. My mind doth leave me."

"I could tell! Right, now we've got your attention..."

But what Harry wanted to say, Baron never knew. For at that moment, Zirconia screamed. The nail polish spilled, making a hot pink stripe across the carpet. She curled up in a ball on the sofa in fright, staring at the floor in front of the staircase, "What is it, Zir?" Ginny asked, abruptly, looking around, expecting an attack,

"A rat!" she squealed, pointing at a grey speck quivering at the bottom of the steps, "A _rat_!"

They all groaned._ Zirconia was scared of rats? _They had expected something really scary!

"Fie, for shame, Zirconia!" groaned Baron, rolling his eyes.

"Zir!" Harry glared at her,

"_I hate rats, okay_?" She half screamed, her voice so high that it almost hurt.

Harry went over to the offending rat and saw that it was only a quaking Scabbers. Harry crouched to pick him up but he shot out from between his fingers and bolted from the Common Room, "Honestly, Zir, it's only Scabbers." He pointed to where Scabbers had vanished, "Nothing to be scared of. Just Ron's rat."

She squealed, "_Ay! _I can't bear those rodents! They're filthy and vulgar and - and carry _the Plague_!"

Ginny frowned. _Now Zirconia's just being stupid_. Baron came over, "'Tis not an able exertion to stay her. Zirconia art much afeared by rodents. 'Tis better toil to let her alone."

Zirconia had calmed down after a while and went back to making the spilt nail polish zip spotlessly off the sofa and back into the bottle. Ginny went back to her essay and Harry, having forgotten what he was going to say to Baron, picked up his 'Quidditch Through the Ages' book, becoming immersed in it once more. Just as Baron became immersed in his thoughts. Ginny had just finished writing the conclusion and rolling it up when, suddenly, she dropped it with a soft flump,

"Hold on."

Harry looked up,

"What's up, Ginny?"

"Well," she said, slowly, "wasn't Scabbers supposed to have been eaten by Crookshanks a couple of days ago?"

Lowering his book, the truth began to dawn on Harry. _If Scabbers just turned up now…why did it look like he'd been eaten? _Had Ron just overreacted to a bit of blood? Or…

Baron stepped off the windowsill and joined them, "What strange occurrence. Might we seek this creature?"

"I'm not looking for it!" Zirconia declared, as though she'd been asked to do something disgusting,

"Come _on_, Zirconia!" Ginny sighed, "He can't have gone that far. We'd better split up. Give us a call when you've found him."

* * *

And so they did. Harry and Baron headed for the Astronomy towers and the west side of the castle while Ginny and Zirconia rushed off in the other direction. They stopped on the fourth floor though. Fred and George were doing another graphic reenactment of Incubus's crimes from what they read in the _Daily Prophet_. Fred wore a mask to signify that he was playing Incubus though unfortunately, it was not a half-mask and it was bright pink with glitter, feathers and sequins. Not remotely frightening. Harry had never seen it before so she decided to stop and watch.

George was strutting haughtily, his nose up, carrying a wooden cane and had donned the mop-head. Fred followed him, "He's behind you!" chanted the audience. George turned and saw him. Fred spread out his arms and bared his teeth like a Muggle vampire. George put his hands to his mouth, gasped loudly and took a step back. A very dramatic way of showing shock, "Who are you?"

"Your worst nightmare! Ha ha ha!"

He then drew out a rubber knife and plunged it into his side. George gripped the knife and began to stagger around, moaning. He then fell to the floor in an overly dramatic way, still holding the knife to his side. Fred laughed, "My plan was a success! No thanks to you lot. Now, I must return. I have befriended an innocent student who thinks I am a friend. Poor fool; he doesn't know!" he laughed again and swept behind the statue. George stood up and threw away the stick and mop-head,

"I'm just a normal student at Hogwarts. I've got a great friend. His name's Julian. He came out of the mirror and I can chat with him when I'm alone. I wonder where he is?"

"I'm here!" Fred came out, maskless and wearing a green scarf,

George grinned, clapping his hands, "Julian! How brilliant to see you! What have you been up to?"

Fred quickly hid the knife behind his back, though turning so the audience could see it, "Oh, nothing much. By the way, have you heard? Lucius Malfoy's been stabbed in Hogsmeade." Again, George jumped back in shock, with his hands over his mouth,

"Really? No! Who did it?"

All the audience pointed at Fred, yelling,

"He did it!"

Fred retorted, "No, I did not!"

"Oh yes, he did!"

"No, I did not!"

"Oh yes, he did!"

"No, I did not!"

"Oh yes, he did!"

"Alright!" Fred stamped his foot, "I admit it! I stabbed him in the alley!"

George stepped back, again, doing the shock impression, "No! I trusted you!"

Fred then whipped on his mask and laughed in 'Incubus's' voice, "Yes, it was true! You were never my friend! You were just my toy without knowing it! And, now you know, I'm going to kill you and suck your blood!"

George started to run, waving his arms around like a madman and yelling. Fred gave chase. They ran in circles around the audience until George hid behind the statue. Fred looked around, "Where'd he go? _Where'd he go?_" Lee then walked on with a rolled up doormat in his arms that looked oddly alike to Mrs Norris. He was stroking it and saying,

"What's going on, my sweet?" in a hoarse imitation of Filch. Fred turned and made a motion as if to stabbed him in the chest with the rubber knife. Lee staggered around as if stricken. He moaned like George had done; a graphic impression of someone being stabbed. He then fell to the floor with a _flop_.

George then came out and gasped in shock. He then did a very comical swooning fit against the wall.

They then all got up and bowed. The audience clapped enthusiastically. Baron, however, looked worried. _Trouble, Baron?_

"'Tis trouble, indeed. Incubus is very proud, very vengeful and doth shed't upon us. Experience's mentor hath importuned me with the knowledge. E'er they mock, their tongues are lost."

_Their tongues are lost? Eugh!_

"Incubus thought't justice. 'If thou canst speak naught but evil, ne'er shall thou speak'; quoth he." Baron looked faintly sickened and decided to stop there.

He was proved right when a voice he knew too well roared from behind them, "THOU FIENDS!" Everyone whipped round and gasped. Some people screamed. Baron, Harry, Zirconia and Ginny gulped. For there, standing on top of a statue, tall, very angry and menacing, was Julian Incubus.

Fred gulped, all too aware that Incubus was looking right at him in his feathered, sparkly mask. _Damn..._was one of the many things that crossed his mind. Incubus then leapt from the statue. With inhuman athletic prowess that one could expect from a vampire, he leapt right over the audience (who gasped again) and right in front of Fred. He took a step back. He could see the cane where he supposedly kept the lethal sword in. His red eye glowered at him and he was growling quietly in rage, the long fangs bared menacingly.

After a moment of terrible silence, he then flew into a great fury and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. He, like Nekros, was horribly strong; he lifted Fred clean off his feet so he was looking at him straight in the face, "Foul devils! Thou durst to mock me?" he growled.

"Ah..." Fred stuttered. _How can I get out of this?_ "...it was only a joke!"

He could tell by the look on his foul face that it wasn't going to work. He grabbed the pink mask and pulled it off so hard that the elastic snapped (it lashed against the back of his head, stinging), "_Foul tongue that proclaim't sport!_" he yelled, pressing his face up close so their noses were touching and Fred could smell Incubus's breath. It was masked by a breath-freshener but there was still a trace of blood. A trace but very powerful.

When he saw Fred's face, he looked back to George's and saw they were identical, "One face and two persons?" he murmured, rage fading, "'Tis arduous to call thy faces to thy names, ist not?"

Fred nodded. It sounded like Incubus was getting less angry as he set Fred back on his feet and let him go. _Wow, maybe he isn't so bad as the papers make out. _He breathed a sigh of relief. Incubus raised his visible eyebrow, "Why, how now? Art thou astonished?"

"Well, for a minute, it sounded like...well...you were going to kill me."

"Kill thee?" Incubus began to laugh, "_Kill thee?_ No, the heavens forbid! Murderer; am I none! Nay, nay! Oh, mercy," he clutched his sides, "thou gives me much mirth!"

"Yeah," Fred said. This sounded like this was going the way of a good conversation, "Yeah, me and George," he indicated his twin, "we're good at that."

"Indeed," Incubus nodded, "and thou art?"

"Fred."

Incubus nodded again, "Fred, thou art a twin. Quoth they in years to come 'Which face ist the name?' and quoth I 'Ha, tis simple. Fred...'" Harry saw him reaching into his coat. Not good, "'...hast not _speech_!" He shouted the last part, whipped his knife out. Fred was thrown to the floor with one strike from Incubus. There were screams from girls; little first years were crying and older students had fled to fetch the nearest teachers. Others had fled merely for their own safety. It was near impossible for Harry to push his way through and it took all his strength not to be swept away by the fleeing horde.

Lee Jordan was then struck by a moment of bravery. On instinct, he grabbed Incubus's arm. Bad move; Incubus threw him away like a broken twig and he hit the wall with the force of a cannonball. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead between his dreadlocks. George gasped, in real surprise and horror this time though. _Damn! I never thought that I'd hope for a teacher until now, _he thought. Baron moved through the crowd (quite literally) to see what Incubus did next. George ran in front of his brother as a sort of human shield. Again, that proved useless.

The black-skinned vampire punched him in the chest with the force of a Bludger and George felt some of his ribs break. He doubled up in blinding agony. He let himself be pushed aside to the floor. He clutched his chest, sounds fading. Incubus's path was clear now. He turned to Fred, relishing the fear he had created. He pulled a terrified Fred upright and slammed him against the wall, "Dost thou know thy sentence?"

Fred shook his head, still terrified. Incubus leaned closer so they were almost nose to nose. He slowly whispered the answer with a loving caress to his voice, as if savouring every word, his tongue moving up and down over his fangs,

"Their mouths be empty; their tongues dog's meat." He paused, as though indulging himself with Fred's terrified expression, "Marry," the knife was raised, his little finger luxuriating in the feel of the metal, "'If thou canst speak naught but evil," He paused again, to smirk with pure pleasure, "'Ne'er shall thou speak.'"

The students who were brave enough (or too scared to move) didn't see what happened then. It was too fast. Incubus's arm raised, plunged and lashed to the side in one, swift, fluid movement. But there was no scream. But, next thing they knew, Fred had flopped to the floor like a dead fish, clutching his throat, white and staring at Incubus. Blood was oozing out of his open mouth and down his chin. His mouth looked empty and something red, slimy and fleshy was lying in a pool of blood on the floor a few feet away. People dreaded to think what it was.

First years had scampered away like rabbits after a gunshot. Girls and some boys had fainted, falling to the floor with no one to catch them. Younger students were crying, wishing that they hadn't seen it. Some people had been sick, the remains of their last meal splattered on the floor. Incubus stood over Fred in all this chaos, ruler over all. Calm and charismatic. He then put away his knife back into his coat and nodded to them all, "Peace be with you, fine fellows, and ne'er allow thy tongues to speak ill."

He walked through the crowd. He needed no effort because they parted to let him pass; they were so afraid. He rounded a corner and he was gone. They stared after him, rooted to the spot in pure shock and fear. A tense silence that seemed a sin to break reigned. Even the sobbing students were silent. At last, Harry was able to make his way through the crowd with Baron to see the damage done. Baron switched with Harry since no one was watching and, after a little examination, announced earlier that Lee was only unconscious but possibly had a bit of damage to his skull. Then, he crouched by Fred while Harry sat George up against the wall, trying not to look at the obvious bone sticking out under his robes.

Baron had seen this many times before but he _still _felt sick in the gut to prise Fred's mouth open and find it covered in blood and tongueless. Fred was crying with pain but not sobbing. He couldn't, after all. He just stared at Baron with wide, horrified eyes. Baron took out a handkerchief specially soaked with potion and carefully wrapped up Fred's tongue with it, quietly hoping that it would be in a good state to put back in as he slipped it into his shirt pocket.

The distant voices of teachers could be heard. They were talking loudly, their footsteps in running mode. He slowly bent down, slipped his arms under him and actually lifted the stricken boy in his arms. He had done this many times; he'd lifted stricken victims and allowed them to stay where he had been hiding at the present time. Now, it was the hospital wing that Fred was bound for. Baron carried Fred in the direction of the hospital wing. The students parted again. The teachers stopped in their tracks at the sight of Baron carrying Fred. Professor Sinistra, who had seen Baron in Hogsmeade, approached him first,

"Wh-what's happened?"

Baron remained silent as he passed her and the teachers. No one followed him. It didn't occur to them to do so. They felt like the young man was forbidden territory, where they should not, and would not, venture. Only when he was in an empty corridor, did Baron speak, unheard by everyone but a stricken Fred, in a low, sorrowful voice, "Thou art much wrong'd. What a rash and bloody deed this is…and no lesser canst I expect."

* * *

"_WHAT?_" Sabian cried in amazement, "Incubus injured _three_ students in the middle of a corridor?" They were in Snape's office just after the teachers had arrived at the scene of the crime. Ginny had been told about what happened and, though she'd wanted to see what had happened to her brothers, Snape insisted that she stayed.

"Yeah," Harry said, breathlessly, "He..."

The door suddenly creaked open. Knowing that everyone was present made Ginny and Harry rise, wands out. Snape however, remained calmly in his seat. At first, they saw nothing there. Just a gap that something had pushed between the door at the wall, not even wide enough for a man to get through. Then, a loud squealing and squeaking started, making them jump,

"Ah, excellent." Snape said. Upon looking round, they saw him with his elbows on the table, his fingers interlocked and his face resting on his flat hands. They had never seen him with that position before. Relaxed poses like that weren't expected from Snape, yet that didn't mean it didn't suit him, "Well done, Crookshanks." Harry and Ginny looked back to the source of the squeaking.

The hairy, ginger cat that was Crookshanks was standing proudly in the doorway with Scabbers hanging in his mouth by the tail, squealing and flailing madly.

Ginny and Harry looked from the cat to Snape, from Snape to Crookshanks and from Crookshanks to Snape again. Even Sabian looked confused, "What's going on, lad?"

Snape stood up, swept across the room without speaking and closed the door behind the cat. With Crookshanks following him, his bottle-brush tail held erect, Snape spoke,

"Crookshanks here provided me with some very useful information." He sat down and the cat leapt lightly onto the desk, sitting smartly, looking round at them with Scabbers in his mouth and looking rather pleased with himself, "It was he who told me about this rat here." He gestured at Scabbers. Harry frowned,

"He's just Scabbers."

"No, he's not." Snape persisted, giving Harry a rather exasperated expression,

At that moment, Scabbers began to flail more violently and more, "And that's a good indication that I'm right." The rat immediately stopped moving, as if frozen with fright. Snape's face lit up with the nasty smile that often appeared when Neville's cauldron had melted.

Sabian made himself solid and went over to the desk, "Well, let's have a wee look at him." He lifted the rat up by the tail out of Crookshanks' mouth and placed him onto his hand near to his eye. Scabbers looked at this strange man that had come from nowhere, not moving from surprise. _Who is he? Who is this odd man?_

He put Scabbers down on the table again. In a last bid for freedom, he made a bolt for a hole in the skirting boards. But, just before he was safely inside, something came down on his tail. Looking round, he saw it was a paw, belonging to a large long-haired dog. It pulled him back and carried it in his mouth back to the table,

"Thank you, Sabian." Snape said as Sabian changed back. Crookshanks scooped the rat back into his mouth and Snape resumed his explanation, "Crookshanks has also been helping one Sirius Black."

"_What?_" Harry couldn't believe his ears. Hermione's cat helped Black? How could he possibly do that?

"Yes, but don't jump to any conclusions yet. Listen to this, first. I found Black in the Forest a couple of weeks ago. Did you know that he's an Animagus? He can turn into a large black dog that looks very like a Grim. You saw him twice, Potter. When you left the Dursleys' house and during that Quidditch match against Hufflepuff."

So, that was what the black dog was. Harry even felt a bit silly for thinking that it was a Grim. Of course, it wasn't. It was like Baron said; it was only a stupid superstition,

"But what was he doing at a Quidditch match?" Ginny asked, confused, "A bit risky, isn't it? With all those people there."

"Black is an Unregistered Animagus, Miss Weasley. I suppose he came to watch Potter; to see if he was as good as his father. Your father, Potter, and Black were very close friends. Leaders of their little gang; with Pettigrew and Lupin."

"Lupin?" Harry repeated, amazed,

"Yes." Snape said, rather placidly, looking rather like Dumbledore for a moment and, before he could continue, Harry blurted out,

"No wonder you had that look on your face at the feast."

"Yes," Snape nodded, darkly, before saying quietly and just loud enough for them to hear, "Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse with Potter, Lupin turns up. In any case," He seemed to drop it and went back to explaining, "yes, Black and your father were friends. Both top of their classes and near the top of the social scale. Your father always strutting around with Black, messing up his hair, jinxing people _like me _just to prove he could - don't give me that look, Potter. It's true."

"Just shut up about my dad and get to the point, will you?" Harry said, evenly but with a definite note of anger in his voice. He'd learned not to snap at Snape but he wasn't going to let Snape insult his father like he was allowed to, "I haven't come to hear you moaning about how my dad is an arrogant git."

Snape glared at Harry but not with the usual loathing. He might have been about to say something but Sabian then laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. So, Snape cleared his throat and pressed on, "Now, your parents knew that Voldemort was going to look for them. That Rodolphus Lestrange managed to find out something about the Potters that made Voldemort go after them and I, well, tipped off Dumbledore about it." He said this with a bit of pride. Crookshanks had the appearance of rolling his eyes while he held Scabbers. Whether or not he actually did, they couldn't tell, "So, naturally, they went into hiding. The Fidelius Charm was placed on their home. Sabe, perhaps you could give them a little briefing?"

"Aye," Sabian picked up, happy to get off the awkward topic of "it's a spell that allows the location of a place or person to be completely contained in one person, the Secret Keeper. Only the Secret Keeper can find it and only those who have been told where the secret is. I should know, I worked on inventing that charm!"

"Now, what everyone thinks is that Black was the Potter's Secret Keeper and that he told Voldemort. I place a large emphasis on 'what everyone thinks' but I'll get to that later. _What everyone thinks _is that Black had been Voldemort's spy, passing him information for a quite a while. Quite a blow for everyone on their side to have that idea in their heads. Then, after Voldemort had fallen, _everyone thought_ that Pettigrew hunted down Black himself. Foolish thing to do, _everyone thought._ So, you know the story; Black got out his wand and demolished half the street, taking Pettigrew and a dozen Muggles with him. Any questions, so far?"

"Yeah," Ginny nodded, "how come you keep saying 'everyone thought'? Isn't that what happened?"

"Definitely not." Snape shook his head and Scabbers became more and more panicky, "Crookshanks," he sighed, turning to the cat, "I'm finding it rather difficult to talk over him. One moment." Upon a wave of his wand, an empty ink bottle turning into a wooden box with a few air-holes. Crookshanks strode smartly over and placed Scabbers in the box, which Snape just as smartly closed,

"And, another thing," Ginny put her hands on her hips, doing an impression of Mrs Weasley when she was questioning the twins about another order form, "how come you know his name's Crookshanks?"

"He told me." Snape said, evasively, "He told me everything I needed to know about the truth. Now," He tented his fingers, "naturally, I couldn't believe what his mind had told me so I went out to search for Black myself. Crookshanks had met Black several times in the forest so, that was where I looked first. After a rather lengthy hunt, I found him. He'd been living in the forest as a dog. I presume that was why the Dementors never caught him and how he escaped. One look into his mind told me all I needed to know."

"You saw Black and you didn't turn him in?" Zirconia stared, "_Vaya,_ I thought you hated him."

"So, I do, but I will not send an innocent man to Azkaban." Harry mentally judged by his tone of voice that Sabian might have had a hand in stopping him,

"But where does Scabbers come into this?" Harry asked, feeling that Snape was digressing again,

"Well," Snape lifted the lid of the box and pulled Scabbers out by the tail. He was flailing more wildly than ever until Snape waved his wand and performed a Body Bind curse on him, making him freeze in mid flail, "perhaps two facts will make it clearer. One; that the largest part of Pettigrew was his finger and you notice his front paw?" He pointed at Scabbers's paw, that, very distinctively, had a toe missing. Ginny seemed to see where this was going, "And, two; Pettigrew was an Unregistered Animagus as well. He could turn into a rat."

He sat there, watching the comprehension dawn on every face with mild amusement, "So, you're saying…" Harry was the first to speak, "…that Pettigrew survived…and he's Scabbers."

"Potter," Snape sighed, slightly exasperated, making Harry feel like he was being made fun of, "I haven't spent the last fifteen minutes explaining about _everyone thinks _about Black for nothing. Can you not put two and two together?"

There was another moment of thinking. What could Pettigrew being alive and Black's story come together? If Pettigrew was alive…did he trick Black? Did he escape in the confusion? Zirconia had another go at explaining,

"_Pues_…was Pettigrew Black's accomplice? Did he know about the treachery and…_un momento, por favor_…got cowardly and switched sides…so he tried to murder Pettigrew. _Si?_"

"Hmm…" Snape frowned, as though giving her half a mark, "…not quite. Keep trying."

"Ah!" she groaned, annoyed at being wrong. Her arms folded and she went back to thinking. In doing so, she pushed out her breasts by her arms and distracted Harry ever so slightly. Zirconia didn't seem to realise what she was doing.

She did turn round when Ginny clicked her fingers, "How about this? What if…Black was innocent?" Harry gawped and Snape made a hand movement, telling her to go on, "What if…Pettigrew switched with Black as Secret Keeper…and Pettigrew was the spy…and he told Voldemort…"

"Yes…" Snape nodded, "…go on."

"And…Black was the one who tracked down Pettigrew. So, Pettigrew killed those people and faked his own death to frame Black?"

"Bull's-eye!" Snape concurred, triumphantly, "Precisely, Miss Weasley. So, I believe that we should meet that reprobate, Pettigrew." With another swish of his wand, Scabbers shot out of his hand and then, vanished in a cloud of smoke.

When it cleared, where Scabbers had stood before was a little balding man with a finger missing, coughing slightly.Harry's eyebrows shot up. Ginny's did too. She didn't actually expect to be right. The man saw Harry and grinned broadly, showing large front teeth,

"Harry! You look just like your father! Him and I were the best of friends...!" _This sounds a bit fake. _A voice like Baron said in his head. Already, he was beginning to distrust the man, even without Ginny and Snape's stories to sway his judgment, "…Always looking out for me; always letting me join in! You don't believe anything Snape says, do you? Snape hated James and Sirius. He's doing it to put me in Azkaban."

Snape moved around his desk and glared at him. The distrust of the man was contagious within the room, "If I wanted the both of you in Azkaban, I wouldn't have said that Black's innocence was correct."

Pettigrew flinched as though Snape had thrown something at him and replied, hotly but wavering, "But, where's the proof, eh? Who's to say that you're just making it all up? You were always a slimy, scheming sneak at school! Always trying to get us in trouble and now, you want to turn James's own son against me! Have you no shame? So, come on! Where's the proof in what you say?"

"The proof?" Snape actually laughed, though rather nastily, wearing the expression Harry had seen him use when Neville had burned a hole in his cauldron, "Why, the proof is standing right in front me, is it not, _Wormtail_? Yes," Snape nodded idly at Harry, whose jaw had dropped to its furthest extent, "he, your father, Black and Lupin made the map but now look at what one of the famous Marauders have become. Nothing but a snivelling, slack-jawed servant of Lord Voldemort."

"Just because I'm alive doesn't mean that Black's innocent." Pettigrew pressed on, "No, no, no! I've been in hiding, Snape. Hiding, still scared of what the Dark Lord's greatest follower is planning for him! Sirius Black murdered twelve people with one curse! He would have killed me if I hadn't escaped!"

"Then, you would have deserved it." Snape cut across him, silkily, now wearing the sadistic look of pleasure he wore specially for when Harry had got a potion wrong, "You sold two great people to Lord Voldemort. Your own school friend dead because of your cowardice! Now, don't tell me that hasn't been praying on your conscience these twelve years. You've had twelve years of borrowed freedom but, remember, Pettigrew, I am the Potions Master of this school and I have a ready stock of Veritarserum ready to give the Dementors the truth. They'll be so _happy _to see you. If they can't have Black, then why not the real perpetrator? I wouldn't think about escape, either." He added, smoothly, obviously reading his mind, "There are five of us with wands and one of you without."

Pettigrew had the impression of a tiny, fat fly about to be parceled up by a large spider. Losing his head completely, he wailed, desperately, "_He would have killed me, Severus_!" Sabian snapped a hand on his shoulder like a pincer and growled,

"That was nae your cue to speak!" All of Sabian's warmth had gone and it was remarkable how much he looked like Snape at that moment, menacing and frightening, "And if you and Harry's father _were _'the best of friends', you would have died rather than betray your friends and live a life and death of guilt and suffering! If you had done the right and noble thing, you would have achieved innocent lives of Muggle and wizard alike!"

Pettigrew was stuttering worse than ever, cornered by these two, towering men (since Pettigrew was so small, Sabian was taller than him).At the back of his panicked thoughts, he wondered how they had known about this. Had they known all this time? He hadn't heard the part about Snape reading minds,

"No, we haven't known this until now." Snape answered the questions his mind came up with as if he had spoken them aloud, "I only found out just now and I'm telling you," he added, just for good measure, "you're lucky Baron's not here. He'll have your hide for hangings for doing this to Potter." A cruel smile was on his face at the sight of Pettigrew, who was visibly quivering, very much like a rat before a lion. Ginny, her gleaming hair flying like a halo of fire, turned him around to face her so she could say what she wanted right to his face,

"So you value your own skin over Harry's whole family?" Her glare was close to rivaling Snape's, which he himself rather enjoyed watched, "So, if I were to give you a death threat now, you would give me any information you had? That's pathetic! You're a shame to the house of Gryffindor! No wonder you're a rat Animagus. You're a spineless, worthless piece of vermin!"

"My sentiments exactly!" Snape said, with unmistakable vehemence, drawing his wand with vigor that he hadn't shown in years. Peter looked around wildly for help. Anyone who would defend him. Spotting Harry, who had stood there, drinking all of this incredible news in, he threw himself to his knees, staring up at Harry's face,

"Harry! Harry; I was your friend's pet! If I were He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's follower, I could have killed you ages ago! You can't take Snape's word for it!"  
But it seemed that Harry could. All of it made sense. Pettigrew had admitted what he'd done and Harry didn't need anything else. Fuming with anger, he towered over the kneeling Pettigrew like Snape and Sabian had done. Seeing danger flash before his eyes, the man cringed and cried,

"Your father wouldn't have sent me to Azkaban! He would have -"

"_Don't you dare talk to me about my dad!_." The mention of his father blew a fuse and, before he knew it, Harry began shouting. All the anger at his parents being murdered, having to be stuck at the Dursleys and then, having the person behind it all right in front of him, welled up like volcanic magma and erupted into such a rampant rage as he had never felt before, "_You might as well of shot the curse that killed them, Pettigrew! You as good as killed them! __**You as good as forced me to live with Muggles who hate magic of any kind and wouldn't hesitate to give their nephew the cupboard under the stairs to sleep in if he was a wizard**__**YOU AS GOOD AS GAVE ME THIS SCAR**_!" He jabbed at the lightning scar, that felt rather hot under his finger. Pettigrew was whimpering, at a loss for anything to say, cowed by Harry's wrath,

"Harry, please..."

"_**No!**_"Harry bellowed, "_**I don't care! I'm not listening to you anymore! The Dementors can have you and so can Incubus for all I care!**_"

Sabian moved forward again, "I saw some Ministry officials come in earlier. Called in when Incubus struck. Since they cannae have Incubus, they will have Pettigrew instead!"

"Yeah! Great idea, Sabe." Ginny nodded. All five of them began to close in on Peter like a pack of wolves,

"Another for Azkaban tonight!" Snape smiled a cruel smile, "But we can't have your loose tongue telling everyone about us."

Pettigrew backed away, although he had nowhere to run. Sabian's hand glowed an angry red and the last thing Pettigrew knew was something hitting him hard in the cheek and then, he knew no more.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Wormtail's caught! And, Harry telling Snape to shut up. You tell him, Harry! By the way, in case you were wondering where Baron was at the last bit, he was still in the hospital wing with Fred. Y'know, feeling guilty about not doing anything so he felt he should stay with him. Baron's like that. 


	19. The Seer

A/N Okay, it's been about twenty days. I honestly have no excuse for my lateness: except that I have exams coming up and that I've got a bit of a Shakespeare block, making Baron's speech a bit harder to write.

_Baron: Good Leonette, cast thy scholarily shackles off and look upon my tale._

If only I could, Baron. But, these are important ones. These are one of my AS exams and I have to revise hard for them. But, back to this chapter. Another new character, Nekros back again after a bit of break and one of my favourite characters (and I bet she's one of yours): _Loony Luna Lovegood_!

* * *

Power of the Moon 

Chapter 19: The Seer

"Oh, my goodness, I don't believe it!" Fudge had said that twice in one day.

Once when he heard about Incubus's third attack and the second time when Snape produced Pettigrew and explained what he had found out. _Two remarkable events in one day! What were the possibilities of that? _When he had first said it, he had been in the hospital where Fred, George and Lee were all in care. Lee had a turban of bandages on his head. His skull was cracked and he had a fractured spine. George had his chest bare with bandages wrapped around it since Incubus had shattered half his ribs.

Fred was, by far, the worst injured out of the three. Even though he was the only one who was conscious and his tongue was back in. However, it took a long time to settle back into his mouth. He needed to stay relatively still for it to heal well. But this was not a problem since, after the attack, Fred had gone into shock and spent most of his days staring at the ceiling, motionless and unresponsive.

Fudge was rattled too. How can one vampire deal out so much damage; let alone without magic? Vampires couldn't be stronger than wizards, surely…

Mr and Mrs Weasley came just as Fudge left and hurried to their sons. Ron had also come too, wearing a cloak for safety, but, as soon as he saw Fred, he almost went into shock too. He stayed in his chair as his parents went to see George and then talk to Lee Jordan's distressed mother.

Ron was convinced that it was his fault that Fred was like this. He never should have believed Incubus was a friend. Then, maybe he might have left, Filch might still be alive and Fred wouldn't be like this. He would still be at school and wouldn't need to worry about anything but homework. Before he knew it, he had said all of this out loud. But these confessions went unheard. Fred couldn't hear him and his parents were too far away.

However, his mother seemed to sense how worried he was and put an arm around him, "It's alright, Ron. Fred's going to be okay. Madam Pomfrey's never failed." It sounded like she was trying to encourage herself at the same time, "Fred will be up, talking and back to his normal self in no time. Won't you, dear?" She directed this encouraging comment at Fred, who gave no indication that he had heard her.

Ron too remained silent. _What would she say if I told her? _He wondered. _I can't tell her though. She'd get really angry. But I've got to tell someone! _He opened his mouth but didn't know how best to phase his situation. His mum smiled encouragingly at him, "Yes, Ron?"

The words seemed to get stuck halfway through to his throat when the smile came on his mother's face. How could he stop that smile? He couldn't make her angry and unhappy. It was one of the smiles that you didn't want to destroy. Ron lowered his eyes, "Nothing; it's nothing, Mum."

"Alright." she nodded, "C'mon, let's go. See you soon, dear." No response from Fred,

"Bye, Fred." Ron stood up to leave, feeling worse than ever, but just then, a dreamy voice came from behind,

"Excuse me. Can I speak with Ronald for a moment?"

They turned round. A second year Ravenclaw girl stood there. She looked a bit...well...dotty. She had long, straggly, dirty-blonde hair, large pale eyes, her wand was stuck behind her ear for safe-keeping and around her neck was a necklace made out of Butterbeer corks. She saw his face and smiled, "Hello, I'm Luna Lovegood. It's alright. I just want to talk to you for a bit with my friend. She's waiting outside. Come on." She took him by the wrist and led him from his mother, out of the hospital wing without another word.

When she had led him outside, she pulled him relentlessly forward, leaving no space for him to ask what she wanted. On and on they went right to the end of the corridor, where they were quite alone but still in sight of the hospital wing. There, she put down her bag and delved into it. Ron leaned over to see what was she was looking for and saw a number of oddly-shaped objects in her bag: including a little group of wooden dolls.

Seeing him looking, Luna smiled and drew them out one by one so he could have a look of them. There were six of them, with featureless faces and bodies, only with painted hair and dot eyes. A little symbol was painted in silver on their chest, each different but with a thin, crescent moon included. All looked like they were in a state of disrepair.

The first looked like it had been dropped in a candle. Both its arms were burned (he noticed a little black thing on its right arm that he couldn't quite pick out) and the left side of its face too. It had painted black hair to its shoulders, one green eye and the left eye had been repainted on the burned part in gold.

The second had an arm missing: its right, completely broken off at the shoulder, had two gashes in the wood on its face that looked like one split in half by the painted white eye. Its painted hair was white and short. This one too looked like it had been burned on the same side of the face as the first one.

The third was female and had escaped burns but her face was neatly slashed right across it. Her flaming red hair was cropped, her leg, her right hand and her left thumb were missing and the brown paint on her eyes had run slightly as though she'd been crying. _I'd cry too if I'd lost that many body parts. _Ron thought, sympathetically, before realising that he was feeling sorry for a piece of wood.

The fourth looked a little like Luna herself, with long blonde hair and large pale eyes. The doll herself had strange slashes on her neck, in the shape of an X. All the fingers off her left hand gone and the right lower arm was stripped harshly to look like it was only bone with no skin or flesh.

The fifth was male again, with short black hair, strange violet eyes and no burns but was slashed on the chest and arms so much that it looked like it had been through a lawnmower. This one too had a right hand that had been stripped almost bare.

The sixth and final was the one that really drew Ron's attention in a way he couldn't quite define. It had reddish-blond hair with little flecks of glittering silver. It was the least burned, only a little on the neck, but had its right hand, left foot and left fingers all taken off. Its blue eyes were the same colour as Ron's,

"Interesting, aren't they?" Luna smiled, as she put the last one away,

"Aren't you going to get them fixed?" Ron asked, curiously, "Y'know, fix the burns and make replacements?"

"Oh, no." She shook her head, "I won't fix the burns. I did those on purpose. I will replace the bits I took off but I can't really get the hang of it."

"Hang on." Ron frowned. She wasn't really making any sense, "If you took them off, can't you just put them back on again?"

"No, no!" Luna shook her head again, making her hair fly all over the place, "I can't use the originals; I burned those. I'm making the replacements out of special silver but I'm not good with the details."

Ron pulled a face. It seemed a bit silly to damage dolls on purpose simply to give it more expensive replacements. Why damage them in the first place?

But, as he opened his mouth to query this, Luna reached into her bag again, "But that's not what I want to show you." She withdrew her hand from the bag. It was a crystal ball. Not like the ones in Trelawney's room. It was smaller so she could easily hold it in her hand and with no smoke within. Instead there was a thin moon within, lazily turning and flipping in what looked like water.

What was the moon made of? It looked like metal with its glitter and shine. But it didn't look solid enough. It seemed to not be real, at all. Rather like a hologram. The substance inside didn't look much like water on close inspection either. Water didn't have that same sparkle. Little white lights flashed momentarily within. They either rose, fell or circled the moon but never touched it. Ron was enraptured by it and its soft white glow,

"Yes, it's quite remarkable, isn't it?" Luna said, snapping him out of it. He looked up at her. She was still smiling, the light from the sphere was hitting her face from below to make it look more eerie. Ron then caught the smell of water lilies, faint and distant, that he'd smelt once before, "This is the Moon Orb. This is the one thing in the whole world that can tell the future precisely as it will happen. The methods of fortune telling taught in this school are naught but foolish guesswork. The future is not told by the contents of a teacup or the formation of a flame or where how the stars are positioned. This item alone can truely tell how events will come to pass. The tower-dwelling woman, addled by her perfumes and oils, believes herself a seer. How she is mistaken! Only Madam Topaz is a true seer."

She said this in the same dreamy voice but, nevertheless, she seemed very convinced that she was right. Ron raised his eyebrows. _Where on earth was this going? _Strains of music then floated through the air, "_How precious..._"

"Who's Madam Topaz?"

She said nothing but looked directly back at the Moon Orb. Ron seriously began to question Luna's sanity. _Does she seriously expect something to happen?_

"..._did that...Grace appear..._"Just then, as he was about to turn when something finally did happen. The Moon Orb floated off her hand and glowed more brightly. Still, Luna gazed at it, unblinkingly. Ron took a step back as the Orb became full of light. A jet of the light then flowed out and struck the floor. Ron shielded his eyes from the sheer brightness,

"_The hour...I first...believed..._"

When the light cleared, the music suddenly stopped. He looked back to see the Moon Orb still hovering in mid air and standing on the spot where the light struck was..._what the...? _That was the thought that crossed Ron's mind as soon as he saw her. It was the most strange woman he had ever seen. She looked like a cross between a medieval druid and a woman out of a gothic novel. Her bright white skin was only visible on the half of her face that was visible.

She wore a white nun's habit with the hood that was pulled over her head and covered her eyes and forehead completely, contrasting sharply with her black dress. Her blonde, poker-straight hair was pushed out by the hood and hung down her chest. Upon her head and holding the hood in place was a silver tiara with a large black jewel in the centre. Black, gossamer-like sleeves flowed over her hands and just brushed the floor, concealing her hands altogether.

The smell of water lilies accompanied her and the source of the scent was from the garland woven with ash, holly and yew, encircled with ivy vines, decorated with white water-lilies, securing fastened within the garland.

She seemed to be young and only about twenty judging by what little of her face he could see. She stood next to Luna with her hands together as if praying. Luna cleared her throat, "Allow me to introduce you: this is Madam Topaz de Oracle. My best friend since I was nine." Madam Topaz nodded,

"Pleased to meet you, Ronald Weasley." her voice was deep but feminine and rather emotionless.  
Ron started, "How do you...?"

"Know your name? I have been watching the future in the Moon Orb and I can tell when our paths will meet. To see, one must be blind."

_Was she blind? Was that why she had covered her eyes?_

"Now, Ronald, I have come to you for a reason." She placed one of her hands on his shoulder. It was as cold as ice, like a ghost's but solid and firm under her sleeves, "The blame for the release of the vampire, Cassius Incubus, lies entirely with me. You see, I was the one who placed the Moon Rod inside your trunk."

She hadn't said this with any remorse. Ron immediately began to suspect this Madam Topaz, "Why?" demanded Ron, "You knew he was in there and you still put him there?"

"Aye. It was my destiny and yours for you to find it. You would have found it anyway without my help. The magic in the Moon Rod is very strong. It can call its Chosen One to it. Incubus cannot be locked away. He needs to be set free so those who know how can defeat him. Now you know that, the Moon Orb tells me that you fear for the rest of your family. I have gazed into the future and I can tell you this: Incubus is relentless but his evil will be stopped by a sister's hate."

Ron could make neither head nor tail of that, "A sister's hate? What d'you mean?"

"Hush, your family comes!" She said, looking up. With that, she vanished back into the Orb and Luna hurried off, shoving it back in her bag, just as the hospital wing door opened,

"Ron, there you are! Come on, we need to get home. What did Luna want?"

"Just - to tell me something. That's all." Ron shrugged, mind still reeling as he joined his parents on the way to McGonagall's fireplace.

* * *

"Well, that was pointless!" Ginny complained to Zirconia as they went down the staircases having run up them with all the haste they could muster just a few minutes earlier,

"_Pues, _at least you saw your brother." Zirconia protested. Ginny threw up her arms in frustration,  
"Yeah, at least! I thought there was a great big Dark Sorcerer attack! But, _oh no_! It has to be absolutely nothing!"

"_Si, si_; I was so sure that I had sensed something up there." Zirconia herself look disappointed, "But then it just disappeared just like that like it had vanished. _Que extraño_! Ah, here come Harry and Gabriel! Maybe they sensed something."

They hurried over to the pair who were talking in whispers, "Hey, Gabriel. Did you sense anything just a minute ago?"

"Yea, t'was heavy strength. My charge didst touch it, so heavy was it so." He frowned, moving a hand up to his face, "Why was it so?"

Zirconia nodded, "I know. I think..."

"Hang on!" Ginny suddenly said, "If Harry sensed a bit of it, then how come I didn't sense any?"

"Harry hath, for further time, had his Item." Baron explained, patiently, "Thou, Harry, canst sense strength and spirit. Time shalt bestow thee, Ginevra, with such awareness in good time."

"What does it feel like, Harry?" Ginny wanted to know when she could feel it,

"Rather like having a navigator in my head, pointing the way there!" Harry laughed, "It's weird. Anyway, c'mon, Baron, we've got Divination now."

"O, Divination! O, hilarity! A woman that quaffed her duty as duke's jester and earns her bread by ambling for apprentices!" Baron laughed derisively as they moved away from Ginny and Zirconia.

They started off for North Tower. On the way, Baron stopped laughing and seemed to be rather quiet. Harry asked what the matter was,

"My mind is full of whirling contemplation, dear Harry. One tiding doth tread on another's heel. Incubus hath more power and strikes with less time betwixt them. 'Tis unkindly and not natural…" He ran a hand through his hair, in deep thought, "…i'th'yore, too ashamed and affrighted by his lord and his fangs, he came not often in the public eye. 'Twas Nekros that took their minds to dread."

* * *

The next match, Harry walked out onto the pitch with Baron and the rest of the team. Baron, as promised, was not wearing his cloak and was enjoying this even though no one could see him. Harry then noticed Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker. Baron followed his gaze and smirked, "Pretty mistress, ist?" Harry jolted slightly,

"Mount your brooms!" Harry got on his Firebolt and Baron got on the back, holding onto Harry's waist, the customary posistion they took. On the whistle, Harry kicked off, Baron holding on behind. He had to cling on for dear life because, as they had found out in practice, it was a lot faster than his old Nimbus. Lee Jordan, who had recovered from his head injury, was commentating and going off tangent a lot, "The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in-auto-brake and-"

"_Jordan!_"

Baron smirked again as Lee reluctantly got back to the game. Harry scanned every corner of the pitch for a little golden ball. Baron looked around too, "Harry, that Ravenclaw Seeker pursues thee."

_Is she?_

He made to look round but Baron forcefully pushed his head back in front, "Thou must not be distract."  
_Alright. _Harry grumbled, annoyed then, "Whoa!" Harry ducked quickly as a Bludger came whizzing past his head. Baron seemed to have seen it already and had ducked already. A few goals for Gryffindor later, Harry and Baron were still scanning the pitch like magpies looking for the Snitch. Baron then pointed,

"There tis!" Harry turned and saw it. He dived; Baron clinging around his waist for dear life, screaming, "Ohhhh! By Saint Paul!" Harry grinned. Baron, it seemed, did not like dives at all. He had buried his face in Harry's back and moaning, "Help me, sweet heavens!"

WHOOSH!

A Bludger came pelting out of nowhere, making Baron squawk in fright as Harry veered off course. In those few crucial seconds, the Snitch had vanished, "Oh!" Baron groaned, "Ne'er have I been so affrighted!"

_Yeah, I could tell. What was all that screaming your head off business about?_

Baron looked affronted at this but that was quickly replaced by fear. Jerking the broom so badly that Harry was nearly thrown off, he stared at the ground, as only just realising how far up they were. Harry groaned as he realised,

_Oh, don't tell me you're afraid of heights!_

"Nay, Harry! Fie these thoughts! Affrighted, I, was by thy haste."

_That's the point of Quidditch! You have to dive and go really quickly to win. I can't go slowly just for you. If I knew you were such a wimp then I would have made you stay on the ground!_

"T'would be preferèd!" Baron stiffened, his pride damaged, "But, 'tis unmanly!"

Harry followed his gaze and spotted it. Gleaming gold below. Harry turned his broom down and Baron gripped tight, knowing what was going to happen, "O, may the angels protect me!" He cried out as Harry made a swift dive. Cho dived too after him. She was too slow though. Harry reached out an arm and enclosed his fingers around it,

"Yes! Yes!" Harry cheered, along with the Gryffindors. Baron breathed a sigh of relief,

"Earth shalt be our greeting."

_Maybe..._Harry shot up and Baron realised with a little thrill of horror,

"O, Harry, I beg of thee!" Harry laughed as Baron screamed. Just then, another scream intermingled with his and the cheering stopped. Harry abruptly stopped his broom and looked around, wondering where the sound had gone. It couldn't be another Dementor attack, surely. Baron, too, peeped out from where he had buried his face in Harry's robes, sounding faintly sick "Ohhh…'tis finish'd?"

"Baron," he turned to his friend, "I think we've got a problem here."

Baron then noticed the silence. He furrowed his eyebrows, all sickness and fear forgotten and looked around. He scanned the pitch like they did before as did everyone for the source of the scream, just as they had for the Snitch. Suddenly, "Harry, look thou there!" Harry whipped round and saw a man with long pale hair with a girl holding a girl by the neck. Harry realised with a jolt that the girl was Cho. A glint of armour and horns later and Harry knew that the man was Nekros, "O, Archimedes!" groaned Baron, "How fast these troubles come!"

Harry made to dive but Baron pulled the broom up again so ferociously that it nearly threw the both of them off again, "Baron! This is no time to be scared of diving!"

"That's not it. 'Tis we. We must go yet show our bind, we must not!"

"What are we going to do then?" Harry did not want to stay up here and do nothing while, down below, Cho was suffering.

Baron looked around, pondering the question himself. If he went down and switched with Harry, the secret would be out. If they switched here in the air then the secret would still be out because he was riding a Firebolt and he didn't think that he could manage such a broom! If they switched but Baron stayed in Harry's body then people would ask questions about how he learned such spells. And some of the spells he used were Exiled Magic and therefore, still illegal. _O, ancestry, what canst we perform?_

_I'm going to have to hurry you, Baron!_ Harry nudged him in the ribs. _The teachers are coming out!_

"O..." he glanced around and then had an idea, "Harry, hie you hence from the field! Fly thee there." Harry jetted off for the spot where Baron was pointing to. No one person noticed since Cho was now being attached to ropes of fire coming from Nekros's fingertips that made her scream in pain and him laugh with delight. Harry's insides boiled with hatred at the sight, though he wasn't entirely sure why he did.

He landed with a fast dive (Baron was biting his lip fiercely to stop himself crying out) and jumped off the broomstick a few feet from the ground. They then switched and Baron produced the six-winged staff he used to fight Nekros with out of thin air, "'Tis time."

They strode down the tunnel and came out to see that he had stopped paying attention to Cho, who was now unconscious on the turf, with a lot of rips on her robes. Sabian and Zirconia were standing there, poised for battle. Ginny and Snape was shadowing them as ghosts. Nekros was talking,

"...the Dream Team of Light Sorcerers. Still, there's two missing. Where's your dear comrades, the Baron and that gypsy?"

Baron strode out, silently onto the pitch, his cloak capturing the sunlight and almost glowing in an ethereal way in the light. Nekros's attention was drawn immediately to him, his burning eyes taking in both him and Harry. Though they could not see his face, he might have been smiling. The girls in the audience started pointing and whispering,

"It's him!"

"Wow, he's going to fight him?"

"He's good looking _and_ a hero!"

"I sure hope he knows what he's doing!"  
Nekros turned to them, a sudden fury coming upon him, "Quiet!" His voice echoed slightly within the helmet, "There's no use fawning over him like giggling servant girls. He shall be mine soon!"

"Well, then, stop playing around with innocent people and why don't you fight us? Or are you going to push them around and then push off like you always do, you _peleón cobarde_?" Zirconia scoffed at him. Goading enemies were her specialty since she loved it. Sour words just slipped off her tongue so easily. Nekros growled and then drew himself up to his full height (which was still a bit shorter than Baron's even with the fin),

"Fine then!" He declared, like a child about to storm off after a fight, "Let this battle begin!" He threw out his arm and called, _"Yami, circumda oretachi_!"

* * *

A/N: The translation for _Yami, circumda oretachi_ is on Chapter 6's A/N.

_Peleon cobarde: _Cowardly Villain

Just enough to time to thank my reviewer, cyiusblack, and those that have recently put this on Story Alert or their favourites or put me on Author Alert or their favourites. Welcome to the fold!


	20. Madam Topaz

A/N: OMG, long time no see. Okay, excuses: school's stressing me out, my Maths A Level is getting nowhere and I'm cracking up a bit. That do?

Okay, here's the next chapter. I'm hoping for more reviews so...(looks at readers with puppy-eyes)

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 20: Madam Topaz

Again, like with the last battle, blackness ate up the surroundings and a cold mist floated around their ankles. Snape appeared along with Ginny, only as a coloured, ghost-like entity, staring hard at the darkness with both eyes. They hovered behind the protective line that Baron, having learnt his lesson from last time, had hurriedly draw with his finger and glowed silvery blue, making a semi-transparent screen between them and the battle, shielding them from any misaimed spells. But it didn't protect them from the cold. Within seconds, Ginny was shivering and saying, "Ooh! I don't know about you two but I'm freezing!"

"Nekros did it with our last battle," Harry told her, "and...well...it didn't go so well after that as I recall. In fact, it turned into a complete fiasco, now you mention it."

There was a small shriek that made everyone start as Zirconia was knocked backwards in a flash of light that Harry recognised as an empty soul attacking. Ginny tried to go to Zirconia, crying out in shock but she ran headfirst into the barrier and was thrown back. Harry muttered to a dubious Snape, "As you see."

Harry, full of dread, was starting to think that this battle might go just as disastrously as the last. Snape, however, raised an eyebrow, a common gesture when he had an idea in mind, "So it all went downhill after Nekros produced this dark seal, is that right?"

"Yeah," he then saw Snape's thoughtful face, "...what are you thinking?"

"Well, Potter..." he looked into the darkness, scratching his chin, talking slowly as a plan formed in his head, "...Nekros draws power from darkness and in case you didn't notice, it is bright daylight outside. If we were to break the seal then...maybe the others would have a chance?"

"That could work!" but then the reality came down on Harry, "but Nekros is really powerful and I don't think any of us would be able to break through."

Snape sighed, that told Harry he was in for a lecture, "Potter, I have noticed that you have a terrible tendency to think everything is done individually. Well, let me tell you, it's not. Thinking that you can do everything on your own will only result in a painful and inappropriately brainless death. Use your brain, Potter. Do you really think that Dumbledore made any headway without the Order of the Phoenix in the last war? Do you think you could have managed to get past _any _of the obstacles guarding the Philosopher's Stone without the help of Mr Weasley or Miss Granger? Knowing your record, you would have been killed by the Devil's Snare as soon as you'd landed on it. You, Miss Weasley and I will destroy this darkness with combined power and don't let me catch you trying to do anything on your own again. Baron would have my head if you went off on a silly little escape and got yourself killed."

Harry glared back at him. He'd had a bit more confidence with snapping back at Snape but, as much as it pained him to admit it, he did have a point. But he wasn't going to admit it,

"And just how do you plan to do that?" Harry said, cynically, "Eversor?"

"No, she's too loud. And asking her to be quiet won't amount to anything. One moment, please." Snape went over to the barrier and looked at it more closely. His Moon Eye glowed which meant that it was working, trying to see a weakness in it. Behind him, Baron, Zirconia and Sabian were having troubles of their own. Nekros was beating them without mercy. He was winning. He knew it. He was stronger than them. They just would not destroy the empty souls. Snape watched all this with rapt attention,

He then saw it. A spot thinner than the other walls. Just behind Nekros. He beckoned Harry and Ginny to it, "We must be silent. Come!" They sneaked around the battle, making a hole in the barrier with a flick of Snape's wand, that repaired itself after two seconds so Snape had to do it three times just to get them out. Nekros was too busy fighting the Sorcerers to notice them but then, they couldn't see his eyes properly. He could be watching them at any time and they'd never notice. Harry really wished he'd brought his Invisibility Cloak but would that have been any use? He couldn't help but feel that he was being watched.

Ginny was considerably perplexed since he hadn't heard Harry's and Snape's conversation but she followed them anyway, thinking they might be onto something. Snape filled her in, "This is the weak spot of the seal. Right here. If we make a hole here, it will crack and no doubt break. Wands out, you two. Now, once we try to break it, I don't know what will happen. But, whatever happens, we must not give up. We have to keep going until the seal is destroyed. Do you understand?"

They nodded. Ginny looked a bit scared, "Scared, Miss Weasley?" It wasn't in a mocking way in which he said it though.

"Yeah." she nodded.

Snape nodded too, "Indeed. So am I. Shall we go?"

They held there wands out in front of them and slowly, pushed them into the seal. They did go through a little but a force immediately replied, trying to push them back. They gripped their wands hard with both hands and pushed them in deeper. The wands still weren't coming out the other side. The seal was thicker than they thought or imagined, despite its smoke-like appearance and, if they weren't careful (Harry realised), they might break their wands on it, "I think...we're going...to have to...get in...ourselves!"

"What?" Ginny cried,

"You _are_ crazy, Potter!"

"Look!" Harry snapped, "Do you want to give the others a chance to beat Nekros or not?"

Without waiting for a reply, he took a step forward, towards the seal. His nose was almost touching it. It felt like going into dark, thick, murky water, like the Lake. Thinking that the air in there might not be anything healthy, Harry took a deep breath and plunged into the seal himself, with Snape and Ginny staring after him...

The seal was made of a thick substance that almost suffocated him. Like a huge...muscle. That was the only way of describing it. Harry pushed himself on through the seal, wand pointing in front of him, cutting through the seal. He didn't know how long he could hold his breath for. Still he went step by step through this thick wall, never looking back, just concentrating on what was ahead. The seal pushed itself against him, retaliating to his efforts, squashing him, trying to squeeze the breath he had been holding out. _I...must...not...stop...have...to...go...on!_

An invisible battle waged between Harry and the seal. He clamped his mouth shut to stop his breath escaping. His lungs were seizing up in the effort to hold his breath and to go on at the same time. Harry gritted his teeth, his body protesting at the lack of oxygen. The seal squashed him harder and harder until, finally, he had no choice but to let out his breath in one huge burst. Harry expected the substance the seal was made of to smother him instantly.

It didn't, though. It actually retreated away from, making enough breathing space for Harry to get his breath back. He breathed in air that was surprisingly clean, almost fragrant. _Why was it clean though?_ Harry thought. The air was strangely sweet, like the perfumes in Trelawney's room but much lighter, much more pleasant. Moments after breathing it in, he started to feel weak and dazed. He fell to his knees and his eyes began to droop, on the verge of blacking out. He didn't know he'd put that much effort in to get this far. A voice then spoke. A voice that Harry dimly recognised as Nekros. A little quieter and less evil version of his voice,

"Harry..." he whispered, gently, "Harry...why don't you turn back? You've done enough. Now get up, nice and slowly now. And go back to the middle." He felt as if strong hands were pulling him up to his feet and turning him around to face where he had come from. The path he had cut through with his wand was now forming into a solid tunnel, "I've made a path for you. Now go down it. It'll take you back to the middle."

Harry took a step forward. Just then, another voice spoke in his head, "_Why, though? Stupid thing to do, really. I've come so far. I might as well finish._"

"Go down the path."

"_No, I don't think I will, thanks._"

Harry faltered. _Which way to go? _Obey Nekros or the voice in his head. _Hang on: __**obey Nekros**__? I don't want to do that! He's just trying to control me. I won't let him do that! _Afraid he might change his mind or Nekros might do something else, he whirled around and plunged into the seal again. This time, it was different. The seal became less solid but much more harder to get through. It became like going through a burning house. The muscle turned into a thick deadly smoke that choked him and stung his eyes making them water and unable to see properly. This smoke had something added because it cut as his insides like white hot knives as he breathed it in, like he'd swallowed thousands of tiny shards of glass, making him scream in agony. He could vaguely hear voices say,

"What ist that voice?"

"Sounded like Harry. _Donde_?"

Harry ignored them. _I have to get outside! _It was all his numb brain knew. As much as he wanted it to be over, he knew he had to go on. He must have gone so far that going back would take too long anyway.Closing his eyes against the blinding pain, he forced himself on, screaming his throat raw, barely hearing himself. He pushed his wand out almost in denial and made it cut through the seal even more. The pain was overwhelming, increasing with every step, as if he was slicing himself apart. _I'm on fire, _he concluded He screamed louder but, still, he walked on, wishing it would stop. And then, after what seemed like years of storms and blood... giving himself one final push, it all stopped. He opened his eyes for a brief period to see daylight in front of him and the crowd. Could they see him? He looked back to see the seal starting to melt. Yes; melt, falling to the ground in glutinous loads, making the grass it touched blacken and die away. He heard Nekros's roar of defeat, a sign of Harry's triumph,

And then, he collided with springy turf and fainted.

* * *

"Harry! Wake! Wake, I implore thee!"

Baron's voice from above was the first thing he heard when he came to the surface once more after a very different darkness. It was quiet apart from Baron's voice, making him think the stadium was empty, and then, thundering, running footsteps, accompanied by Snape's voice, "Here, Sir. The Post-Cruciatus potion. I don't have a full antidote but this will do for now."

"Thanks to you, Severus."

His whole body ached with the aftermath of the pain. Harry cracked open one eye with a great effort and yet more pain. Everything was blurred from pain and the fact that his glasses had fallen off. He dimly saw Baron over him, cradling him in his arms and looking worried, "H-hey...Baron..." he whispered. Baron sighed with relief, a few little tears glistening on his cheek,

"O, deareth charge, fear had gripped me in iron claws that death had taken thee!"

"Where's...?" But Baron raised a hand to silence him,

"Gone." was all he said. Placing the rim of a goblet to Harry's mouth, Baron carefully tipped the contents into his mouth. The potion tasted of sickly citrus but Harry could already feel it working inside him, soothing the pains inside him but only for a few moments and there was only a minor change in the amount of pain,

"I'm sorry, Sir." Snape's voice came from somewhere above him. Harry still could not see properly to identify where Snape was and he didn't really want to move his head in case it caused more pain. It sounded strange, though; he'd never seen Snape sound humbled, "It was my fault. I suggested trying to break the seal and Potter went and dived straight into it."

"We didn't want him to." Ginny's voice came out of nowhere, "I wanted to go in after him but Professor Snape stopped me. Said that we might get lost and make things worse."

"Thou'rt an astute man, Severus." Baron spoke, with no anger in his voice, "And, thou valiant tortur'd," Harry could feel Baron's eyes upon him, the voice gentle, "worthy youth, I'll bear thee to the chamber and weave such charms that no villains come thou noble person near."

With that, Harry felt everything, the Quidditch pitch, the clouding sky and even the wind that had started blowing. He recognised it as the familiar tunnel drop that led to the Moon Medallion, dimly distinguishing the floating lights in the darkness. Baron was still holding Harry in his arms, letting Harry truly relax, not needing to move any part of his body. The pain was still there but it was dulled, leaving him only feeling weak, drained. They passed the white sheet of light and landed in Baron's quarters in the Moon Medallion.

Baron himself was moving, walking slowly and carefully, holding Harry as though he were made of glass. It was a strange feeling. He'd never been carried like this before. To be in the arms of someone he trusted, of someone who would keep him from any further harm. It was strange to him but not frightening.

Once they entered the bedroom where Baron had been disposed to grief over a month ago, he was laid down on the practically unused bed, "My chamber is thine. Lo, 'tis unused and to thy liking?"

"Yeah." Harry murmured, his voice rather deep with weariness. A newly appeared candle on the bedside table sparked into life as all others died. This yellowish light gave the room a somewhat cozy feel, a direct contrast to what the place normally looked like. The blurred shape of Baron sat down beside him, gazing intently into the other's face,

"You shall lodge here until thou hast repos'd away three days."

"But, Baron," Harry's tired brain started to think up other things, other than how comfortable these mattresses were, "won't people notice I'm gone?"

"Nay, dear Harry. In thy place, I shall masquerade and in thine own appearance. Look not so concern'd. Ne'er have a known a man as I know thee. Here cease more questions." Laying a hand upon Harry's forehead, he leaned in closer, "Thou art inclin'd to thy dullness."

Before he could do anything other, Harry's exhaustion carried him off to sleep.

* * *

As Harry closed his eyes, Baron rose. Now, he had to perform the charms around his friend to keep any unsavoury guests from hurting him while he slept. Taking out his wand, he said quietly, "Bloom, _Namida_ _Nigerosa_." The wand extended, releasing black-coloured magic in the shape of dozens of rose petals that vanished as soon as they reached the floor and dark watery streams that rose around him.

When all this was done, he placed the tip of the wand to the floor and drew a glowing blue line around the bed where Harry lay. Such was the spell that no one but the caster could pass through either inside or out.

Once satisfied that there were no weak points in his seal, he turned and left the room. He had to possess Harry's body quickly before they noticed him missing. However, once he closed the door to the staircase, he saw the door to the other Moon Items open ever so slowly. Raising his extended wand ready, he glared at it to get an impression of who it might be, a sense of familiar dread filling him. For a good reason, too. A silver-helmeted head poked its way beyond the door and entered the room, "Only me!" Nekros sang, closing the door behind him, the fiery eyes blazing at Baron's bristle,

"Get thee gone! Avaunt, thou shadow!"

"Don't take that tone with me." The armoured man stepped audaciously into the room, ignoring Baron's wand upon him, "I've just popped in to have a little chat. Why," Seeming to notice Baron's wand for the first time, "it's been quite a while since I've seen Namida Nigerosa!" He reached into his own armour, "Since you've shown me yours, I ought to show you mine."

"Spawn of shade, hence!" Baron snapped, "Trouble us not!"

"Oh, yes." Nekros nodded, as if reminded of something and not taking any notice of Baron's anger, "Potter's here, isn't he? Foolish little brat, thinking he could break my seal without paying the price." Withdrawing his hand, a short wand was clasped in his armoured finger, "Spread your shadow, _Filia Ikarihono._" With black streams of fire-like magic expelling itself along with blue sparks, the wand extended just like Baron's had.

Baron himself sensed danger and decided firmly that he would not let Nekros past him, under any circumstances. Seeing his behaviour, a derisive laugh came from within the helmet, "I'm not here for Potter, if that's what you're thinking. Oh, no, no, no! You know the person I _really _want," With that, Nekros vanished from sight for a moment and appeared again, right in front of Baron, the point of his wand sticking into the other's thin stomach, "is you."

It looked as though a fight might start between them but, as Baron opened his mouth, the door opened again and a familiar snatch of song caught their attention,

"_T'was Grace...that brought...us safe...thus far..._"

Both of them looked round, Nekros looking mutinous, as though he'd been interrupted during something highly pleasurable. In glided a woman in a nun's habit and a long black dress, her concealed hands pressed together as if in prayer.

Nekros scowled under his helmet at the sight of her, like a child that had just been commanded to its room. The woman had done nothing but Nekros seemed to know what was going to happen,

"To your own place, Nekros." She said, calmly. Nevertheless, Nekros flinched as though she'd shouted at him. With a last lingering look at Baron, he stormed out of the Moon Medallion in a huff, buffeting her as he went, moody and with a good idea of whom he would take it out on.

The woman turned to Baron, whose eyebrows had raised ever so slightly,

"Madam Topaz," He identified her immediately, "or I do forget myself. Hast thou made from the Orb?"

The Moon Orb itself hovered in front of her. The Moon Orb was her eyes into the future. Since she was blind, her other senses were honed and she could tell what was going on in the present too. Her water lilies were still in full bloom, their scent hanging in the air.

The shiny surface of the Moon Orb reflected Baron's still-pale face. The sight of it made Baron suddenly want to ask something. He looked set like he was going to do something he had been dying to do for a long time but terrified that he might do it wrong,

"Madam Topaz..." he began. He looked like he was seriously going to lose his nerve so she decided to help him,

"It is still cracked." She was referring directly to the Moon Medallion but there was something else she was hinting at,

"Yea." Baron said, breathlessly, "I know not why. O, lady, see how these cracks open their congealed mouths and gape o'er. I beg of thee, apply some remedy to cure its affliction. Thou art its mother and maker."

"The Medallion has known you since you were but eight years in mortal life, Gabriel. You are the Medallion and the Medallion is you. The Medallion is a reflection of your heart. Do you remember when it shattered when John vanished? Your heart wept and wept and it shattered while it was around your neck. It fixed itself when you briefly met John again and it has remained cracked ever since. It shattered a second time when you found John's body, did it not?"

"Aye, madam," he said, this time with great pain as if trying to stop tears. Madam Topaz reached out and brushed away the tear she found on Gabriel's face. She knew he still had more to ask though.

As though afraid he might change his mind, Baron blurted out his thoughts in a rush, "Where be John? When shall we be in our sights? My promise begs of my mind to complete't." Nearly becoming hysterical, he was about to blunder on when Madam Topaz gently laid one of her covered hands upon his mouth, silencing him,

"Many questions...with many answers...Most cannot be answered at this time..." She didn't need to see him to tell that he was devastated, "But I will reveal all I can for tonight."

There was a pause, "Yea?" Baron sounded impatient, eager to hear the truths,

"John is here. He walks these halls. Ah, such confusion in his heart that he does not show. He wants you just as much as you want him. However, his mind wildly drives him to keep himself in the dark. I will say only this: he will come to you when you need him the most."

Baron wanted to demand more information but he knew that she would not give anything away. So, he just stood up and walked out of the Moon Medallion, trying to be satisfied with what little information she'd given him,

"Gabriel," Baron whirled around, hoping for some change of heart and more information, "another hero shall emerge in your enemy."

* * *

At the same time, Draco was walking down a corridor. Only it wasn't Draco. Since he was being possessed by Nekros. Nekros was in a rather bad temper. _How on earth could a mortal boy break through my seal? And what on earth was Incubus up to? He was never this violent. _Nekros was suspicious. _He didn't stab that Malfoy for no reason. The Malfoy-Weasley rivalry perhaps? No, he cares nothing for that any more. After all, why would he injure the Weasley twins? _Nekros was getting the strong feeling that Incubus was planning something.

_Incubus has always been mutinous. He killed Onyx because of jealousy after all. He's a very envious, greedy man, after all. I will perhaps question him soon. And, another thing, _He remembered, _why did Baron deny me again? Why did that Oracle woman come when she did? She knew what I doing! _Furious, he then rounded a corner and saw someone. He saw that it was Lucius Malfoy. He recognised the hair. He had only seen him from the back. This was the first time he had seen him from the front. Oh, what a shock he got! _No...surely not..._

The man stopped when he saw him. He did not show any signs of surprise. Almost as though he had been waiting for him. He then gave a small smile as Nekros continued to stare, "I know it's you, Jean." he said. It was a voice Nekros knew well. He quickly turned his body from Draco's to his. He hurried up to the man,

"Father!" he cried, unable to control himself, allowing this lapse for one of the first times, "It's you! But...how are you here? And why in that form?"

Lucius, or rather, Nekros's father just stood there, smiling mildly. On instinct, Nekros reaching into his armour for his dagger. Nekros's father then held up a hand, palm facing Nekros. Nekros stared. _What was he doing? _His hand then gave off of a faint, silvery glow. Like the moon. Nekros gave a small, "Oh." of surprise before he fell limp in a trance. He fell back gently and right into the possessed man's waiting arms. Nekros's father gently took hold of the helmet and, with care and deliberately, lifted it away from his face. Smiling at what he saw, he spoke,

"I've sneaked into the Moon Medallion." A slight chuckle broke his speech, "Someone needs to keep an eye on you. I've been watching you, my duty as a father. I've been...neglecting it, actually. I see everything Lucius sees and this is the first time I've spoken through him. Feels a bit weird." He added to himself, "I'm always there round him, like Gabe is around Harry. I've really missed you." He touched his son's face, brushing a strand of hair off his cheek, "But you'd better not forget yourself. The evil in your heart can never truly consume it. There's no point of no return. Trust me, you'll come to yourself. And I'll be there with your mother. I have faith in you, my boy. I'll help you when the time comes." He then held his hand in front of Nekros, "But now is not the time." His hand glowed again, "So forget that you have seen me."

There was a flash of light and Nekros left Draco, leaving his body to turn back into its normal form and soul. Nekros's father also let Lucius go and resided back within him. Draco woke up from his trance as did Lucius, "Uhh..." said the younger, looking around, "Why am I here?"

Lucius scratched his head, "Good question..."

* * *

A/N: I know, I'm stealing ideas from Bleach with the wands so no comments about that, please.

_Namida Nigerosa: _'Namida' means 'tears', 'Niger' means 'black' and 'rosa' means 'rose'.

_Filia Ikarihono: _'Filia' means 'girl child', 'Ikari' means 'desire' and 'hono' means 'blaze'.

I'm trying to fit the wand names with the characters. Tell me if I'm doing okay!


	21. The Highwayman

A/N: You'd think that, with it being half term, updates would speed up. Well, you're wrong. My updates are slowed by revision (aarrgghh!) for finals (is that the word for it?) and colouring my pictures. Not to mention that writing Shakespeare language is suddenly becoming a lot harder for me. I'm having a bit of a block. I would have put this up a few hours sooner by my Internet was acting up last night and I had wait until morning.

Okay, enough excuses. This chapter is more background than action. We're finding out more about Cassius Incubus and beware of the surprise about Onyx!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 21: The Highwayman

_Whew!_ _And what a day it has been! Two drunken fights to break up and not to mention that warlock's 'coming-of-age' party! Thank God I'm not doing the night-shift! _Madam Rosmerta walked out to clean the tables outside with a cloth and a bucket of water. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the mess some customers had made. Stepping over a few bits of broken glass, she proceeded to mop up some spilled ale.

Rosmerta then found out that it had been there for a while and had dried, making it hard to clear off. So, she enchanted the cloth to scrub at double speed and proceeded to wipe over the tables. As she did so, she looked up and saw someone hurrying down the high street. _He's certainly in a hurry_ she thought _I wonder what he's up to._

He then ran right past her and he saw the runner properly. With a shock, she realised...long red hair streaming out behind him...his cloak curled around his left hand...a long white coat...Incubus! She simply froze as the murdering vampire ran past her pub without even looking at her. _Wow, I thought he'd look round for a moment there!_

_Still, he might be up to some dastardly deeds. _Recklessly, she made her choice and followed him, just tailing him so she could hide easily if ever he turned. Wand in her hand, she hurried after him and, after a long time, he surprisingly came to the Hog's Head pub and stopped right in front of it. From the light coming from it, she could see him scowling, his fangs extending a little. Always a bad sign. He pulled out a knife. Not the knife from inside his coat she'd heard about. A different one, like a butcher knife,

"A plague on thy house!" he growled and threw the knife up at the sign with the pig's severed head. It embedded itself in the wood with a splintering noise and made the sign spin around several times very fast. When it finally stopped, she saw that the knife had gone straight through the painted animal's eye. She stared. _Why did he hate the Hog's Head? _He looked around for a bit and then spotted a horse tethered by it, that whinnied nervously at the sight of him.

He scratched his chin in thought for a moment, contemplating something. Then, in all of a flurry, he hurried over to the poor animal and leapt open its back. He whispered something undoubtedly foul in its ear and then kicked it off down the high street, leaping over the fence and out of Hogsmeade. A man rushed out of the pub and cried,

"HEY! HE STOLE MY HORSE! STOP HIM!" But there was nothing anyone could do. Incubus had, once again, escaped.

* * *

_INCUBUS DRAMA IN HOGSMEADE_

_Late last night, the steadily-becoming-infamous vampire Cassius Incubus was first sighted in Hogsmeade by Madam Rosmerta, 32, landlady of the famous public house, The Three Broomsticks. At eleven o'clock last night, Rosmerta saw this, 'I'd had a very rough day and I was clearing up outside. Then, I see someone running down the high street and I recognised him._

_'Incubus certainly did look like he was in a hurry. I followed him, he came to the Hog's Head pub and gave it this really foul look. He then got out a knife, said something like 'a plague on thy house' and threw it at the pub. It went straight through the sign like a bolt. He then saw a horse tethered up by the side. He then mounted the horse, whispered something to it and then off he went like a shot.'_

_As if this wasn't enough, this shocking incident was followed closely by another. An assistant at the Three Broomsticks (who will remain anonymous for security reasons) caught up with our reporters just before they left and told them a very chilling tale._

_'I was just getting Madam Rosmerta a mulled mead since she said she was feeling shaky after her encounter with Incubus. Can't say I blame her, either. I went into the cellar to pour some out when I hear this scream upstairs. I dropped the mug that I was filling and I ran back up._

_'The sight there chilled me to the bone! Rosmerta was lying dead on the floor in a pool of blood and there he was. Big as life, his red hair looking like the fires of hell...it was him! Cassius Incubus! He had been kneeling over her and drinking her blood. He didn't see me. He didn't turn round. He just stood up, ran off and out a back window. I heard the sound of horse's hooves outside and, by the time I'd finished my owl to the Ministry, he was gone.'_

_On closer examination of Madam Rosmerta's body, we found that the cause of death had been a stab to the heart and teeth marks were found on her throat. Also, all of her jewellery and the money from her purse gone. Could this mean that, not content with simply killing and terrorizing, Incubus had also taken to theft? In light of these new events, all residents of Hogsmeade village have given Ministry booklets of safety that warns to take security measures on their houses._

_Villagers are warned not to take any jewellery outside with them or large sums of money. Aurors have been specially ordered to guard and patrol the village. All Hogwarts visits to Hogsmeade have been cancelled until Incubus's capture and execution. Any student who tries to sneak into the village will be escourted back by Aurors and given a series of detentions. The Ministry has imposed a curfew on all children in the village. Any child caught out after dark will be escourted home and no underage wizard or witch must go out at any time without an adult._

_The villagers have been seriously shaken by this incident. All names have been changed to protect the innocent,_

_'I find it so amazing that only one vampire can just do these things and get away with it!' an angry Mrs Rochester said, 'With all the security measures put in, surely he would have been caught by now. Incubus has killed and now he's a thief. He has to be stopped right away and thrown in Azkaban! He mustn't be allowed to get away with this! The Ministry needs to capture him and put a bolt through his heart!'_

_Mrs Ingram says 'I can't believe he'd attack Hogsmeade. This quiet little village. And the attack on poor Madam Rosmerta, I think, was just cowardice. He heard her tell the reporters and he killed her for it. It's just disgusting! I agree with banning Hogwarts students from visiting. It's for their own safety! Personally, I don't think any children should be allowed out alone until Incubus has been turned to ash!'_

An uproar in the Great Hall at breakfast that morning greeted this news. Incubus sighted and Madam Rosmerta murdered! No one was disappointed about not going to Hogsmeade. Not one person wanted to go near that village now after the attack. Even a fully recovered George (it would still be a few days before Fred recovered from his shock) was put off the trip to Zonko's he was planning. Percy gave him a lecture that was by no means needed or appreciated,

"Quite right too! This is a dangerous criminal we are dealing with, George, and I don't want to..."  
"Percy!" George growled, truly angry, "Incubus is enough of a reason for us not to go there!"

"Oh," he looked abashed, "Well...sorry, I thought you might...well...disagree..."

Hermione said, "I agree with Mrs Rochester. It's so amazing that Incubus hasn't been caught yet. I mean, he's not your ordinary vampire and they're normally easy to get rid of. You'd think someone would have caught him by now. He can just disappear into thin air! He's becoming worse than Black!"

* * *

Baron was nothing short of outraged about the attack. He blurted out his feelings in Snape's office when they called a meeting. He suddenly slammed his hand down on the table and yelled, "_Tis cowardice, sure! Bloody, remorseless villain!_"

"_Vaya, _we should have seen it coming." groaned Zirconia, only quieter than Baron, "I was afraid something like this would happen."

"The worst is yet to come." put in Madam Topaz, who'd been newly introduced with Luna, "Nekros will not stop Incubus and his highwayman ways."

"He did nae mind last time, either." sighed Sabian, "And Incubus was the worst one of the lot! All highwaymen eventually ended up lynched but nae Incubus. That's how he started his life of crime actually. As a highwayman. The story is Nekros just spotted him on the road standing up a stagecoach and found that he had potential. He had a chat with him afterwards and asked him to join him as a Dark Sorcerer. Well, Incubus being Incubus, he was nae going to say nae."

Snape scratched his chin thoughtfully, "Sabe, what is Incubus's story? We have heard background on you, Baron and the war but I've hardly heard any of Incubus's history."

"Well," Sabian sat down like an old man telling a story of 'the good old days', "as you might have heard, Incubus used to be Julian Weasley. Now, the Weasleys were very rich then. The same status as the Malfoys and with a round dozen children..."

"A dozen!" repeated Snape, incredulously.

"Aye. And all of them out of cause merry hell for us professors!"

_Somehow I feel really lucky that only two Weasleys who are troublemakers in this day and age! _Snape thought. _Twelve troublemakers; that had to be a nightmare_,

"Mum always asks herself where she went wrong with them." put in Ginny, realising something, "Now we know why they are the way they are; it's in their blood!"

"Aye. They were wee little terrors! Actually, I should nae say all of them. There was one...the youngest, Julian. Now, he was very different from all the others. The odd one out, if you will. Not only because he was the only Weasley to go into Slytherin out of all of them..."

"And the last." Ginny scowled, bluntly. This earned her a piercingly angry look from Baron that made her flinch. Sabian continued,

"He was nae a bad lad. But he was always a very quiet little laddie. A bit of a loner too. A very good student though. Och, the best in most of his classes, never misbehaved. A pleasure to teach but what worried all of us teachers was his inability to socialise. We sat him in groups to try and get him to make friends but there was nae a time that it ever worked."

_Sounds a bit like me when I was younger._ Snape thought. _I didn't really have many friends either…_

"We found out that his brothers and his sisters had been teasing him about going into Slytherin. It was such a blow to us professors to find out that such a nice young boy could be victim to torment from his own family! I remember he had received a Howler from his mother for going into Slytherin too. It went off at breakfast, screaming at him for his choice and all his family were laughing at him. He just ran out of the Great Hall in tears. Some first day for that poor laddie!"

"Oh." Ginny said, sympathetically, temporarily forgetting that the little boy they were talking about was now a hardened criminal and losing some of her animosity for him,

"The eldest out of them, Jeanne, didn't join in the torment campaign of Julian though. I remember overhearing their conversation a few days later. Julian was crying awfully and saying 'They torment me for who I am. Is there something wrong with me?' and she told him 'Julian, even though you're in Slytherin...oh, what's Slytherin, anyway? It's just a house. Nothing to worry about.' That's exactly as she said it. She was right of course. All it really is in the end, is it nae?"  
Harry and Ginny began to see that Sabian had a point,

"But, the students then were very similar to what they are today. They did nae share Jeanne's view. The bullying went on as he progressed through his school life. He nae showed it on the outside...och, he was a great pretender. We tried to get him to tell us who it was but he insisted that it was nae a person. That there was nae a thing wrong and he was happy. He was lying though. I actually witnessed some Gryffindors pushing him around in the corridors. I put a stop to it, gave all the boys detentions and wrote to their parents. I was quite horrified at the fact that most of the gang was his brothers and their parents simply did nae care about their son getting bullied. Lord knows what happened back in his home.

"Once, the matron was treating him for a leg injury and, y'know what she found? Bruises, some fresh, and scars all over his body. The Head of Slytherin House was extremely worried by then (she was really protective over her students) but Julian always just shook his head and said it was nae anything to worry about. But Julian still did nae strike out until one very fateful day...och, I remember it well. Just a normal day. Nothing about it to suggest something would happen. It was in his third year. Just at the end of the day. I go out into the courtyard and find some of the poor laddie's own housemates turning on him. Aye, some Slytherins! Usually, they left him alone and he left them alone. Now, a lot of Julian's feelings had been bottled up and I think it reached such a point that Julian just snapped.

"The Malfoys at the time were nae rivals with the Weasleys. They were just two houses alike in dignity. The Malfoy heir, Rigel, who was in seventh year at the time was even courting Jeanne. He was there at the time and was one of the ones teasing him. Aye, I remember. Rigel was reading out one of Julian's essays in a mock voice and laughing at a few parts."

The image came to Harry's head easily. He could imagine an older version of Malfoy jokingly reading out an essay and Julian (who, for some reason, resembled Percy) sitting on a bench, getting steadily more angry and upset, "Julian just stayed quiet like he usually did. Until Rigel started getting to him. Before I could move a muscle, Julian just stood up and clouted him right in the chest. It was clear straight away that his hidden strength was great. Strong as something possessed, the Charms mistress said afterwards. Rigel was knocked back and some of his ribs were broken. I heard it from the other side.

"I'd nae heard a place in Hogwarts so still in all my existence. There was nae a person that could believe what just happened. Julian just stood there with a whole new brutal expression on his face. We could really see Cassius Incubus in him at that point. He then Summoned his things and ran out of the school. All the way, he was yelling 'Damn you all! I call up the demons of Hades. For, thou shall all burn in hell!'. A lot of people said afterward that he'd really gone mad. The teachers chased him, I near broke my legs doing it, but we lost him around Hogsmeade. The next day was the real shocker.

"Rigel got a letter from his parents saying that his youngest sister had died. Only five, I think that girl was, poor little lass. Apparently struck a death blow to the head and then thrown into the reeds of a riverbed. Her parents were with her in her last moment and they asked her who did it. She said 'Julian Weasley'." The room was in a state of numb shock. Ginny couldn't believe that her ancestor would do a thing like that. _Not even the Malfoys would kill five-year-olds!_

"Aye," Sabian nodded, gravely, "And that was just the start of the problems. Jeanne then found out about Rigel bullying her brother and she did nae take very kindly to it. They had this really big row, their voices could be heard from the towers and, in the end, Jeanne announced that their relationship was over. Now, he was nae going to take that for an answer. He was nae the type to do that. So, he dragged her from her dormitory into the courtyard in the dead of night and then...guess what?"

"I'll hazard a guess at killing her?" Harry suggested, grimly,

"You're absolutely right, Harry." Sabian nodded, gravely, as though he was telling Jeanne's parents of the death, "He drowned her in the fountain and then was out of the school like a shot just like Julian. It was him screaming that woke me and brought me running. What a terrible sight to behold! Jeanne newly killed, face down in the fountain, and Rigel's fading oaths that he would kill Julian or die trying. I was the one to tell the Headmaster all about it. Everyone thought he was so distraught that he'd gone mad. I would nae be surprised if he had.

"Again, we could nae catch him when we got to Hogsmeade. Och, students were fast. The next day came the bad news. Rigel was found dead on top of the clock tower with a broken neck and his body was rather...ah...mangled. I was near the lead of the people who rushed up to the top when the bell boy screamed blue murder. It seemed he did die trying."

Sabian closed his eyes for a moment. In that moment, a many tentacled animal decided to twitch in its jar of liquid on one of the shelves. There was a low bubble-like noise accompanying the movement,

"Of course, the Weasleys were nae prepared to be in a feud with any family, let alone the Malfoys. They were peaceable, wanting nae a fight with anyone without a reasoned attempt at putting it right. In an attempt to stop it, they put in the newspapers that they had had disowned Julian and, if ever he tried to return to them, they would pass him straight to the authorities to be lynched or else kill him on sight. But Mr Malfoy would nae have any of it. Oh, no, that did nae justify two of his seven children murdered. He wanted revenge and he wanted it badly."

_Personality traits are passed on through families too._ Snape mentally noted,

"It would have turned ugly if Edward had nae intervened. Edward; y'know, Gabriel's father. He was Baron of Hogsmeade at that present time. I think we might need the Moon Mirror so we could get the feel of the situation. Ginny, you'd better do it. The date was eleventh of November, 1689, at eleven am exactly."

Ginny slipped the Moon Mirror off from around her neck and it enlarged, the patterns and pearls disappearing but the Mirror still reflected nothing. After positioning it on an enlarged silver stand she produced from her pocket, she said to it clearly, "Eleven am. The eleventh of November. 1689." The picture formed slowly like the Moon Medallion picture. It formed into the picture of the hall that they had seen in the Shrieking Shack only sleek and in its full glory, hardly recognisable. It was full of people. In the front seats were unmistakably the Malfoys and the Weasleys of the time. The Malfoys were on the right aisle and the Weasleys on the left. They were silently glaring daggers at one another.

People filed in and when the hall was full, a door at the head of the room opened and a man wearing rich burgundy robes and carrying a cane with a gold dragon's head. He looked like Lucius Malfoy's twin with Harry's hairstyle walked up to the podium. The room fell into silence as he entered, "That's Edward." muttered Sabian. Harry could see younger versions of Baron, Sabian, John and a Japanese-looking woman had to be Baron's mother in the upper galleries.

"I am sure your ears hath received the tidings. Of this mutiny between the houses Malfoy and Weasley that hath disturbed this village. As thou sees, my loss of mirth is for this reason. If thou houses wish for peace, I implore thee coincide now. Tobias Weasley, stand." A man in the front row with red hair stood, "Corvus Malfoy, stand." A man with white-blond hair stood, "Now, come thou two there before us."

The two men did as they were told. They stopped a few feet short of one another, glaring at one another. Edward stepped down from the podium and came down so he was just in front on them. He addressed the both of them, "Gentlemen, see what a scourge is laid on thy wrath. Fate has chosen to kill your joys with hatred. All are punish'd. Thou art two households alike in dignity and should have dignity. Absolve thyselves and trouble us not."

"_Absolve?_" repeated Corvus, pointing at Tobias, outraged, "How, pray, canst I absolve? My younger and my heir sleep i'th'mausoleum for his children's acts!"

"And _thy_ son," put in Tobias, "ist the cause of my elder's sleep. _My _younger hath been banished at thy spider's hands!"

Sabian scowled and shot up out of his seat, "Trickery! Thou hast not the care!" he objected, standing up. Tobias looked as though he was about to shout back but Edward silenced him and looked up to an uncharacteristically fuming Sabian,

"Sabian, what ist you cry?"

"My Baron," It sounded strange to call Edward 'Baron', "I am the Potions master, as thou knowest, and therefore, hath known him for twice two years. Slytherin hath seen one Weasley. Twas Julian." This caused quite a sensation around the hall. The rest of the Weasleys' cheeks were burning like this was the most unimaginable shame. The villagers were asking the Malfoys for confirmation which they got, "He had not a quiet hour there. No relish in his work came for torment marred his happiness. Nay, not a moment of happiness he had. The world buys not the respect of his own kin!

"Mercy's deathday was his tolerance's. Torment from Rigel of Malfoy came and he could not endure't. Hailing a blow, he flew hence where we could nae reach."

"Ist this the birth of this loss of peace?" Edward asked, ignoring Tobias' obvious want to interrupt,

"Aye, I have said it. Tobias, thou referest to Julian in grief. Fie, for shame! You have ne'er grieved for his misfortune in thy life." Sabian was distinctively angry, something that rarely happened and surprised the people watching,

"Lord Baron," Tobias turned sharply to Edward, "I implore of thee to spurn hence this man. This mere Scotsman speaks slanders…"  
"_Slanders_?" Edward repeated, incredulous and angry himself, "Ne'er have I beholdst such slander from thou! I charge thee for a liar! The saints canst speak more lies than Sabian! Be silent, thou wrangler, and keep thy slander! I'll hear no more of't!"

In the argument, Sabian had sat back down and Christine had come over to whisper something in his ear. Ginny distinctly heard one of the Weasley girls mutter something where the words 'stupid' and 'Scotsman' could be heard,

"Very well," Edward's voice silenced the whisperers, pinching the bridge of his nose, "'tis worthy tidings brought to mine ear. If 'tis true, then the Malfoys are but a little from blameless. 'Tis his kin that made the villain. However," he rose his voice again, since an angry outburst had come from the Weasley part, seething brothers and sisters furious at this accusation, "if thou canst not move thy hearts to forgive, lo, I give thee chance to reconcile and end thy bloody deeds."  
There was a very long, tense silence as both Malfoy and Weasley just glared at one another mutinously. It was the sort of silence that could make your heart stop. The tension in the room was almost unbearable. Even little children didn't dare break the silence, being so awed by it. After a very tense moment that seemed to last forever, Corvus spoke, "Thy issue hath taken two of mine. 'Tis bloody crimes but 'twill not continue. The issue of Malfoy and Weasley are part'd."

"Amen," Tobias added, "let our enmities never rise to burn."

Ginny, on Sabian's command, then turned off the Moon Mirror. It clouded and shrank back as a small, circular mirror on silver pearls. Sabian then resumed his story, "Well, they were both as true as their words. They did not do any more killing but they were enemies forever. I cannae believe they still are now. Anyway, I don't know how he turned into a vampire but all I know is that, during his trial, Jeanne helped him escape the Ministry and he must have been inducted into a vampire pack while on the run,"

"Which vampire pack?" Ginny asked, curious,

"The Moon Fangs." This news was greeted with a gasp from Ginny and wide eyes from Snape. Harry frowned, feeling as though he was missing something,

"Who are the Moon Fangs?" he asked, feeling that he ought to ask rather than continue confusion,

"Oh, for goodness sake, Potter!" Snape sighed, "I know you knew nothing about the wizarding world but I don't know you were ignorant of _this_ much! Didn't Miss Granger bother to inform you?"

"Drop the sarcasm, Professor." Ginny scowled, making him scowl in turn but it shut him up, "The Moon Fangs are one of the most famous vampire packs in Britain. Perhaps in all of Europe. All because they fought against the Dark Side during the war of the Exiled."

"Aye, aye, aye." Baron sighed, wistfully, as though remembering happier times, "'T'were gentles of excellence."

"Aye." Sabian nodded, "And Julian must have run away from them before the war started because he resurfaced a couple of months later as Cassius Incubus, the vampire highwayman of Hogsmeade town. The bane of all unwary travellers. He was such a successful one because, when he said 'Your money or your life', he meant 'Your money _and_ your life.' After holding up the stagecoaches, he killed everyone, drained their blood, even along with the horses, and threw the coaches themselves in the river or ditch. That is, after he ransacked it of everything of value. I saw the coaches that he'd plundered around the paths outside Hogsmeade as men dragged them out to identify the bodies within." He bowed his head, shaking his head, "Needless, pointless killing."

"And that's what he's planning to do now?" Harry suggested, seeing that a change of subject was in order,

"Definitely, lad." Sabian nodded, twisting his goatee around his finger, "He then became a Dark Sorcerer, one of the Exiled. I'm not sure how it happened but I heard that Nekros approached him after he looted a coach belonging to a French noble. When he was at the height of his powers, his area of expertise was controlling people. Nekros, as you may have guessed with his treatment of poor Draco, specialised in torture and Onyx, though you'd never have guessed it, simply loved to kill."

"They sound a little like the Unforgivable Curses." put in Snape, after a bit of thought, "Incubus is the Imperious; Nekros is the Cruciatus and Onyx; the Avada Kedavra."

"Aye, they invented those spells." Sabian nodded, "The three Unforgivable Curses are a milder type of Sorcery. Not that it makes them any better than the ordinary type; they just require less magic and more people can use them. That's why they're so dangerous.

"Incubus, as you know, was a very proud, very jealous man with such a lust for power and high status that you would hardly know that he was once the shy, reclusive Julian. It was this craving that drove him to kill Onyx because he was so jealous of her. Mind you, Onyx was quite an easy victim for him. You see, she _isn't _a Sorceress as such. Aye," Sabian nodded at their surprised expressions, "even though she has a Moon Item and can use it, she's never did a bit of Exiled magic in her whole life. Always puzzled me that she could use a Moon Item and her skin is black when she has no Sorcery in her."

Seeing their faces, he hastily added, "Not to say she was nae powerful because she was but she never even started the Seven Stages. Incubus and Nekros merely allowed her presence for servant and spy purposes, sometimes for an assassination that they felt too simple for them. We did nae even know about her until a few years into the war when Zirconia defeated her. And Nekros completely dominated her, along with Incubus. All she did was laid out before her by the two men and she parroted their views, pretending she had the same status of magic as them. Aye, and they entertained her delusions, supporting them. Never for a moment did she think that she was just an ordinary witch."

"I wouldn't say ordinary." Ginny shook her head, disgusted,

"It must have been pretty easy for Incubus to kill her, then." Harry said,

"Och, aye. She could nae defend herself properly against someone like Incubus. Nae, she didn't even get the chance to. He stabbed her right through the back, I was told. Dead before she knew it. Anyone would think that Nekros would nae have minded and simply got another woman. But some people can surprise you. Though she was only his underling, Nekros did nae like that one bit. He fought with Incubus in a great duel in Hogsmeade town centre where the mosaic is now. I was there when it happened: houses blown apart, people killed in the crossfire; the mayhem and madness around the village could nae be described. We were all helping people to get out safely and I patrolled the battle field, looking for trapped people. Aye, I saw it. I remember even the number of bodies on the ground."

Sabian ran a hand through his hair, as if to calm himself, "Incubus's staff was broken in his hands, a bolt was planted in his chest and a fire-whip strangling him was the last thing he felt. After the battle, Nekros seized and hung his pierced and strangled body from a noose around his neck on the sign of the Hog's Head pub."

"Wow," Harry said, after Sabian had finished, "that explains why he hates the place."

"Oh, aye." Sabian nodded, "I was one of the people who took his body down and gave it to his family. Even with all he'd done, I simply felt that he should go back to his kin in the end."

Ginny left the room at the end of the meeting, deeply troubled by these revelations for more than one reason, hardly listening to Zirconia's fussing.

* * *

A/N: So, how'd that go down with you?


	22. He's Coming

A/N: Hey, everyone! It's two weeks until my Easter holidays but that doesn't mean updates might slow down. You know me! Anyway, I've been busy with this story, upcoming exam revision, coursework and colouring Photoshop pictures. Thanks to my reviewers, favouriters and alerters!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 22: He's Coming...

The Easter holidays were hardly relaxing. Teachers had piled mountain-loads of homework on them. Even Baron was complaining, even though he himself had no work to do. He could not bear Harry sitting at a table working his hardest at schoolwork. Baron was restless and worried, "'Tis too long since the armour'd villain hath appeared." He'd told Harry, when he'd finally lost patience. Though Harry thought Baron was being paranoid, he couldn't help worrying. Nekros was never quiet for long. Could he be planning another attack?

This question was soon lost to him because, on top of all his schoolwork, he still had Quidditch practice and Wood was working them harder than ever in preparation for the Quidditch final that was the first Saturday after Easter.

He was booking the pitch for practically every day for them to train with increasing feverishness. Baron was getting rather fed up, scoffing that Wood was taking it more seriously than needed. Harry simply rolled his eyes; Baron could never really understand the importance of Quidditch. He spent the majority of his time on Harry's broom glancing at the Forbidden Forest or up at the castle. For what reason, Harry did not know. So the feverish training went on. On the day before the match, Harry asked Baron if he wanted to be blindfolded for the match since he didn't need Baron screaming in his ear when he was concentrating on dives,

"I shall not, boy." Baron snapped, stubbornly, "Mine eyes are much need'd!"

"Fine." Harry sighed, exasperated, "But your voice isn't that much needed!"

Baron looked back over at the stands. He then did a double take. Three dark figures were standing high in the empty stands. They were merely shadows in the fading light so he couldn't see their faces but he didn't need to in order to tell that they were Nekros (his horned helmet gleaming in the little light), Incubus (with the tall, elegant stance) and Onyx (the hanging sleeve gave it away). He froze, scowling up at them, clenching his fists. _What were they up to?_

Harry spotted them too a few seconds after Baron. As soon as he reached inside his robes for his wand, Angelina chose to look up at that moment and saw them too, "Oliver!" she called sharply, "People! Up there!"

Wood's head snapped up quickly to where Angelina was pointing. He spotted them too and soon, the whole team had seen them. Wood stood up, taking out his wand which he had up his boot ("In case anyone tries to spy on us), "Who are you?" he called up, "Slytherin spies?" There were three cackles from above and, at once, they turned around and leapt down behind the stands, "Hey! Get back here, you!" Wood yelled, landing his broom and running down the tunnel after them. Harry followed suit and ran after him. Once outside the pitch and out of sight of the other team, he switched with Baron. He had a strong feeling that he was going to need to; for a start, Baron had longer legs.

* * *

Wood stopped. A strange white light behind him cast a long shadow in front of him. But it was so brief that, by the time he'd noticed and looked round, it had vanished. A tall, golden-brown-skinned young man with long dark hair and a billowing white cloak hurtled past him without a word or a glance, only a glint of silver glasses. Wood looked after him, confused. _Hadn't Harry followed me a second ago? Where did he come from? _In his pause, the man had and out of sight. Wood tried to follow him but, by the time he'd got up to speed again, the man had already reached the forest and his cloak was the size of a postage stamp to him.

Hating to get something out of his grasp, he trudged reluctantly back to the pitch to tell the players that the news that the figures had escaped. _Had they been Slytherins? That helmet one of them was wearing…_ Even as he thought this, the team hurried over for news. Wood noticed that Harry was not among them, "Where's Harry? Hasn't he come back?"

"Nope," Fred answered, "I thought he was with you. I saw him pelt off in that general direction. Didn't even bother to pick up his broom." He gestured at the pitifully abandoned Firebolt, "Why?"

"I'm not sure what happened when we got out of the stadium," Wood lapsed into thought, speaking slowly and trying to arrange possible outcomes, like he did during Quidditch strategy sessions, "he was with me at first but then there was this light behind me. Only for a second, mind. I turn round and there's that dark haired boy who came to our last match running past me with Harry nowhere in sight!"

"Nowhere?" Katie Bell repeated, astonished,

"Neither hide nor hair." Wood nodded,

"Wow, that's...weird." Angelina said, obviously doing some hard thinking.

"You're telling me." nodded Alicia Spinnet. Then, suddenly, she giggled. Wood goggled at her, "Harry's missing, Alicia! D'you really think this…?"

"It's not that." Alicia attempted to control herself "You mean that tall, dark, good-looking one, don't you? The one with the white cloak?"

Wood rolled his eyes. _Here we go again!_ "Can we concentrate on Harry, please?" But Katie continued where Alicia had left off,

"Mind you, ever since that dark boy first turned up, all the trouble started. First, when he was first seen in Hogsmeade, the Fat Lady was slashed. Second time, Incubus stabbed Mr Malfoy. And in between those sightings, there's been a load of things going on: the Incubus attacks, that last match getting highjacked, all sorts!"

It was with a troubled silence that the team carried with them on their brooms to search from the air for their missing seeker.

* * *

All the way down in the dungeons, at about three o'clock in the morning, Draco woke in a cold sweat. He didn't quite know the reason. He didn't have the strength or will to check what time it was. All he knew was that it was too early to be up. He was just about to lie back down when a sharp pain in his stomach made him cry out.

But it was strangely muffled like a hand had been clamped over his mouth. Yet there was nothing there. His muscles began to shake and felt like he was going to be sick. Like something was harshly squeezing his insides. He staggered out of bed, every second made his legs feel weaker. Feebly pulled on his dressing gown, he became intent on getting to the adjoining bathroom. No one in his dormitory woke up. It seemed to take an age to get to the bathroom. His legs didn't feel like supporting him for much longer. His steps were uneven and stumbling, as if he had suddenly lost the bones in his legs.

He eventually thrust open the door and threw himself into the small tiled room, just managing to switch the light on. His breath came in shuddering gasps. He moaned and leaned over the sink, retching. _Oh...oh, God! Why does this happen just before a match? This is the third time! Flint's going to kill me. _He grasped the edges of the sink like his life depended on it. He then noticed his fingers. They were blackening before his eyes. Starting at the tips and working their way up to his palms.

_Oh no! _If possible, he felt even worse. He knew what was coming here,

"Oh, yes, Draco. I'm coming." the all too familiar voice said in his ear. He then felt an icy body push against his back and an arm curl around his waist. A hand clamped over his mouth and nose so he could barely breathe. Cold lips were brushing his neck. Draco's world then started to fade; he couldn't see. Nekros was coming into his mind. He knew it; he was pushing him out of his body. He was losing all sensation, cruelly ripped away from him in a torrent of pain.

He was being swallowed by darkness. The sounds of Crabbe's snoring were fading. Cold was rising up his body. He raised his hands to his face and found that they were entirely black and the fingernails were growing out of control. Draco's hair stretched like someone was pulling it very hard. He cried out as loud as he could as pain beyond pain coursed through him...

* * *

"Draco!" Pansy burst into the room after the boys told her about hearing a shout from within. She gasped as she saw Draco lying there, his dressing gown slipping off and in a cold sweat.

She hurried over to him since he was lying on the floor, twitching and his mouth was open in a silent scream. She stared at him. _What was wrong with him? _She took his shoulders to try and shake him. Then, she saw the skin below his pajamas. Black, creeping up his chest from his dark arms. Giving a small shriek, she leapt back as the darkness approached her hand. Suddenly, the Slytherin prefect burst into the room, fully dressed and fully ready, "What's going on?" he shouted. Pansy jumped back as though receiving an electric shock,

"It's Draco! Something's wrong with him! Look at his skin!"

He knelt beside Draco was writhing and whimpering softly. The blackness had reached the base of his neck. His hands reached up painfully, covering his face. His body curled up, making himself as small as he could. The prefect bravely took him by the shoulders and shook him vigourously, "Draco? What's wrong with you?" The black skin felt deathly cold. Draco then stopped moving and fell silent. There was a tense silence and Draco's classmates moved a little closer to him. The blackness had reached his face...and stopped there. They retreated again, however, when Draco's chest suddenly pulled up his torso, hauling up his body in a sitting position.

His head flopped down, lifeless, like a puppet. The same held for his arms, who lay useless on each side of him. Everyone present was staring at Draco's lifeless form. No one knew what was going on. The prefect muttered, "Get Madam Pomfrey, someone! Quick! It's another seizure." Crabbe and Goyle hurried off towards the door. Then, Draco's arm raised, making them all freeze. The elbow was limp and his hand flopped at the wrist, as if there was a string attached to his wrist.

His arm then moved around in a quarter-circle to point to the door. His finger slowly raised until he was pointing right at the door. As if by a sudden wind, the door was sucked shut, the lock clicking. Crabbe and Goyle fell on the door, trying to get it open but it was just as unmovable as a part of the wall. After a few moments of frantic banging and crashing, they gave up and stared at Draco, who remained motionless in that same posistion.

The prefect pinched his cold arm, "Draco!" The afflicted boy gave no response, "_Draco_!" The prefect lost his patience. Grabbing him by the hair, he pulled Draco's head back so it was completely visible. His eyes were closed tight, as though he couldn't bear to see what was in front of him, and his mouth moved very quickly, as if he was speaking very fast without sound, too fast to lip read. But one word was clear. His mouth spelled out the same word repeatedly; about five times in seven seconds: _Baron...Baron..._

But his voice would not work. It was almost as if Draco was drowning without water. His face was scared, panic-stricken. As if he was faced with his very worst fear. But, after a while, the invisible strings that held him up seemed to snap, making him collapse. There was a tense silence as they expected something else to happen but nothing came. That was worse; Draco was just lying there as though dead, his skin blackened, his face was the only part that escaped the affliction.

The prefect, with great care just in case he started moving, took him by the shoulders and lifted him so he was in a sitting posistion with his head lolling onto his chest. He put him against the wall to keep him up. He paused for a moment waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he pinched Draco's arm again and said to him, "Draco? Draco, can you hear me?"

No reply. Not even a single twitch. The prefect unbuttoned his pajama top and pulled it off to investigate the source of this blackness. His entire torso was blacked out, right down to his fingers and disappearing beyond his trousers. The locked door clicked loudly and swung open. Immediately, Crabbe and Goyle hurtled out of the room, Pansy following. She knew someone had to explain to Madam Pomfrey without the 'uh's.

The prefect stayed by Malfoy. He watched the door to see when someone came. He did not see Draco's fingers twitch slightly, like a claw. He could hear Zabini and Nott out of sight, talking about the noises they had heard in low voices, "Was it Draco again?"

"Yeah, he's been a weird case all year." The prefect strained his ears. He hadn't heard much about Draco this year and was rather eager to hear it, "First, he acts like a king for the first two months of term."

"Yeah," Zabini added, "He was getting _really_ annoying. For all of us. Lording over us."

"Then," Nott continued, "there was that episode on Halloween when the Baron turned up. He was unconscious for the night (god knows why) and then, he's changed, completely. Nervous as a long tailed Niffler in the room full of rocking chairs! And these seizures, I mean to say. I don't believe a word Pomfrey says about Morphus Comatialis. It's something else, that's for sure. And as for that Boggart..."

"Just _what_ was it, I wonder?" Zabini said, slowly as if thinking, "The real thing turned up at that Quidditch match, didn't it?"

"Yeah." Nott paused for a moment, "Along with that Baron character..."

The prefect put a hand to his ear at the mention of the Baron, "...Draco seems to like him a lot...he did chase that armoured thing away, whatever it was..." Then, the prefect looked down to swat away the insect that had crawled onto his hand. Except, it wasn't an insect. It was...hair. Long, white-blond hair, poker straight and shiny. Looking along it, his eyes widened. Malfoy's hair had grown impossibly long in that short time. It now came to stop at his hips, the tips dark red. _What on earth...?_

"Oy!" he called out, "Zabini; Nott! Come 'ere and look at this!"

After a little shuffling of feet and bedclothes, the two boys came into the doorway. Moving out of the way, the prefect revealed Draco. Zabini's slanting eyes widened and Nott stared, his sharp eyes taking in his hair and his skin, "It _is _Morphus! Oh, Merlin..."

Then, there was noise; beyond the dormitory, coming closer. A moment later, Flint pushed his way through the pair in the doorway, "What's up with him?" he asked abruptly, "Don't tell me he can't play _again_!" The prefect felt like rolling his eyes. _Quidditch captains were all the same! _Then, Flint caught sight of Malfoy, "What the HELL...?"

Madam Pomfrey hurried in, wearing her dressing gown and a very worried expression on her face,

"What's the matter with him now? Another seizure? Did he..._good heavens_!" She gave a small shriek at the sight of Malfoy's skin.

Pansy filled her in, "I came in and he was on the floor. His skin was turning all black and he was thrashing around all over the place! Then, he moved like a puppet and then collapsed. What...what happened to his hair?"

"What's happened to him now though?" he directed this question at Madam Pomfrey who was levitating him onto a stretcher, "Can you turn him back in time for the match?"

"That is out of the question, Flint." Madam Pomfrey looked shaken as she felt Malfoy's cold skin, "I've only ever heard about Malfoy's affliction in books. Those seizures were the precursors of it. This takes years to get rid of. Years, Flint! This may be serious. Out of the way, everybody! Perhaps he might have to be sent to St Mungo's! I knew it was Morphus!"

* * *

Snape and Sabian took their positions outside the screens placed around Draco's now usual bed. They knew that it was Nekros. He was possessing Draco. Possibly using slow transfiguration to torture him. They had to be on their guard for the things he did next. Lucius had been summoned to his son's bedside and Madam Pomfrey explaining all about Draco's 'seizures', "There's no pattern of date or location or anything. Yet this is the seventh time he's ended up here this year. I did think it was Morphus but there's normally a pattern in seizures. And the blackness in the skin builds up much more slowly over time. Your son's case is…well…alarming. I should send a owl to St Mungo's…"

"What have you done to wake him up? Or try and get rid of whatever it is in his skin?" Lucius was talking very sharply to her, while Madam Pomfrey wearily tried to explain,

"I've tried spells and potions; what else is there?"

"A lot more than what you're doing now!" snapped Lucius. Snape nodded, understanding; _He always gets short-tempered when he's really worried or scared,_

"Really, Mr Malfoy! There's no need..."

There was the sound of a loud whine and Lucius's bad temper vanished abruptly into breathless worry, "Draco? Draco! Can you hear me?" There was no other sound, "_Draco!_" his voice rose up both in volume and pitch, "_Now, stop this! Wake up now! _DRACO!"

Snape looked through the screen with the Moon Eye. Lucius was clasping his son's shoulders and shaking him violently. _He'd better be careful. _Snape thought, absently. _He'll break Draco's neck doing that. Sabian, I can feel Nekros on the move._ Suddenly, Lucius leapt back as if burned. The Moon Eye showed Snape that Nekros was truely taking control now. Easing out his wand carefully, ready for Nekros if he tried to get past him, he watched as Draco sat up, eyes still closed. His hands rose to his head. Blackened hands with dark fingers.

The fingers glided across his hair, in a sensuous movement. He caressed his face, taking in every smooth inch of his skin with his touch. Tossing back his long hair, his eyes snapped open. Snape could clearly see them; red and burning, ones he had only seen staring out of the eyeholes of a helmet. Now, they scorched through Draco's eyes, through Draco's face. _Nekros..._All of a sudden, with a bluish glow, came the Moon Ring around his neck..._and Draco's soul is imprisoned in that ring._

"I cannae get into it, lad." muttered Sabian, "I tried through the doors but Nekros has barricaded it."

All at once, a chill filled the room. Like that of a Dementor approaching. Not the full numb, hopelessness but a chill and an ill feeling gnawing on their insides like a burrowing snake. Lucius and Madam Pomfrey stared at the great change that had come over the once inert boy. Not just the black skin and the long hair, but the face. A wicked, scheming countenance and one they had never seen the likes of before. Never on the face of Draco Malfoy and never like this.

Sabian wanted to venture into the screens but Snape held him back. _We need to see what he's up to._ Snape explained, quietly in thought, _Only attack if Nekros tries to get through us. We can't give away our position too recklessly._

Nekros slid out of the hospital bed, his legs supporting himself on the stone floor. Madam Pomfrey, the braver out of the two, ventured forward, "Malfoy, you must lie down..." Nekros scowled,

"Leave me, woman, and I will spare you." Nekros was using Draco's voice but all the spirit's wickedness was added to it, making it horribly distorted and almost unrecognisable. He turned to the screen and Snape was convinced that he was looking right at him. Those fiery eyes made it possible and Snape's legs froze as those red blazes looked directly at him. For a moment, he felt vulnerable. A feeling he never liked. He felt as though, even with his Moon Eye and his wand, he was naked. Stripped of all defenses, of all shields, no better than a child before a Dark Lord.

Then, all at once, and much too suddenly, he felt as though something very heavy had fallen upon his shoulders and coiled around his neck. Falling to his knees, he could not help but bow his body in submission under this immense pressure. It was Nekros's doing, he just knew it. From looking into his eyes for too long…

Suddenly, it was all over. After a bit of panting, he realised Sabian was in front of him, "It's okay, lad. You could nae stand up to anything like that." Making sure that he was in front of him all the time, Sabian hauled Snape to his feet just in time to see Nekros make his move. For, immediately afterward, he leapt for the window, thrusting it open in an instant.

Lucius sprung into action, grasping Nekros around the waist. That little plan failed when Nekros hit him straight in the jawbone, knocking him out. Snape winced a little at the crack of a bone. Then, Nekros leapt from the window and, instead of falling, he rose high in the sky as if on wings and out of sight, an awestruck Madam Pomfrey looking on.

* * *

A/N Oo-er! Nekros is back! And he's got Draco! Oh no! 


	23. Breaks Like Glass

A/N: Pretty quick update this time around. Go, me!

A dramatic chapter here, mostly to do with Baron. I'm getting strangely better at Shakespeare talk. Practise makes perfect!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 23: Breaks Like Glass

The euphoria of winning the Quidditch Cup was rampant in the Gryffindor Common Room. Butterbeer was passed around (the empty bottles juggled by Fred and George to much applause), Honeydukes sweets were thrown over the crowd for them to catch and the Quidditch cup was passed around the Common Room for everyone to hold before it was put in McGonagall's office at the end of the day.

Even cats joined in the celebrations, licking up spilled Butterbeer, pouncing on the corks and chasing the Ice Mice, that scuttled on the floor to avoid them. Crookshanks would have none of them, however. He chased the corks and often pushed aside other cats to get to the large puddles of Butterbeer. Hermione had long left so he could do whatever he pleased.

This party continued even as Sabian walked straight through the Fat Lady, breathless and panic-stricken. Zirconia was the first to spot him since Ginny was rolling Butterbeer corks along the carpet for Crookshanks to chase. Even through all the students, she spotted the only person to be donned in blue with no red or gold adornments. Even through all the students, she could tell that something was wrong.

She moved through the crowd (literally) and came up to him, "_Que pasa, _Sabian?" After Sabian had panted for a few moments, slowly managing to get enough breath back to talk, he gasped,

"It's Nekros…He's taken over Draco again...and disappeared…We have to find him."  
Zirconia gasped, "_Que lastima!_ And just when we were celebrating!" She looked quite disappointed at having to leave all celebration as she went to spread the news to the others. Ginny responded with a loud,

"He _what?_"

Thankfully, since there was so much noise in the Common Room already, her outburst went unnoticed. Zirconia went to tell Baron and Ginny went to tell Harry. Harry was at this moment enjoying a large mountain of Chocolate Frogs with Ron. Baron was sitting on the arm of the chair next to him. As Ginny whispered the news in his ear, he stopped in mid-bite and stared at her,

"_Are you serious_?" he whispered, with a chocolate frog-leg still sticking out of his mouth. Baron stiffened for he had heard every word without Zirconia telling him. As Ginny nodded, Harry turned to Ron, who was straining his ears over the noise to listen in, and said, "Sorry, Ron. I've left my gloves back in the changing rooms. Back in a tick."

"Right-ho." Ron nodded, going back to his chocolate frog, saying no more about it.

Harry followed Ginny out of the Common Room. Hardly anyone noticed. They were too busy celebrating to realise their hero had gone. Baron frowned as Sabian filled them in on the details. _Nekros hath fled? With no mark, no trace? 'Tis not retreat, I am sure. _They marched through the deserted corridors and looked around for any signs of suspicious activity.

However, most of the castle seemed perfectly normal. Ginny gave them the idea of splitting up to cover more ground and, after many warnings along the lines of 'be careful' were exchanged, they each took a different path, looking intently for Nekros's trail.

Not long after he separated from the others, Harry heard wicked cackling on the second floor. Adrenalin pumped, making his heart beat louder and faster. Sweat covered his hands as he clasped his wand. Clanging and crashing accompanied the laugh. _He must be wrecking something. I bet he is. I've got to stop him before he finds a student._ He heard a few portraits scream and another shout, "I say!" And then,

"Peevesie's got inkies to paint your pantaloons!"

_Damn._ Harry scowled. It was just Peeves.He was prepared for a fight and all for nothing. Out of annoyance of Peeves, he pulled a walking stick from a stand and held out about three feet off the ground. He waited for a few seconds until, "...ready or not! Here I come!" Peeves flew towards the stick, gliding backwards through the air, wiggling his curly-toed feet and waving a brush covered with ink and its respective ink pot like a battle-crazed Sir Lancelot.

But Harry proved victorious. For, just at the right moment, he pulled the stick up so it suddenly caught on Peeves' feet,

"Argh!" Peeves tripped over the stick and flipped right over in the air, screaming all the way. Ink flew everywhere, splattering the floor, the tapestries, Harry's hair (it didn't make much of a noticeable difference) and his red Quidditch robes, "_Petrificus Totalus!_" Peeves hung upside down in the air, his belled hat slipping off and scowling at Harry. He was completely unable to move because of Harry's quick Body Bind Curse. Harry laughed as, just to finish off, he whacked Peeves on the shins with the stick and then ran off, the poltergeist's offended screams following him. _That felt good. I don't think anyone had tripped Peeves up before. Right, _he placed the cane back in its holder, _back to business.

* * *

_

Baron meanwhile was scouting in the towers. He glared around the walls around him, sealing him and the spiral staircase off from the outside. Surely there had to be some trace of Nekros's Dark Magic around here. _'Tis villain that goes not like the sun and moon without ruin. Think he that 'tis a trip wasted. _Taking another careful step forward, his footstep made an echoing _tap_ on the stone. _I shalt be heard._

Baron knew how much Nekros wanted to possess him; to own him. He knew why. Still he searched for him. He would not back down and hide from Nekros. _Ne'er shall I falter. I will not serve feast for Incubus, nor serve spells for Nekros._ For now, he could sense it. Dark magic that stung his eyes and made them water. _Nekros._ He knew it. _He is here, sure!_

Picking up the pace a bit, he hurried up the spiral staircase. He wished that he could see through stone. He could tell whether or not he was alone. Still, that didn't matter. His staff appeared in his left hand at his command. He passed a slit window, that blocked out light completely. It was far from dusk so Nekros must have done it. _I see his knavery; this is to fright me if he could._

He came to the door leading to the landing...and it was unlocked. His eyes were stinging as though salt had been thrown in them and he pushed up his glasses. Though his eyesight was perfect, these were specially enchanted to protect them from such things. That was what gave them their red tint. Nekros then appeared before him as he took a step towards the door.

But, as Baron noticed as he looked closely, it was only a Boggart pretending to be Nekros. A messenger; who delighted in taking on the form of its master. The form Baron raised his head,

"Creation of Nekros," He used a commanding voice. A good way to get these Boggarts to tell the truth, "what would your master with me? What lies beyond that mouth of shadow you guard?"

The Boggart glared at Baron, recognising him from the old times, "What lies beyond this door is the Baron's doom." And then, passed back through the door.

_My doom? _Baron looked around the door for any clues of what this 'doom' of his could be. _Dementors are his army but I hath my shield. _Preparing his finger arrangement for the right spell, he took a deep breath and kicked the doors open. Darkness was beyond the doorway. At first he considered it to be one of Nekros's Darkness Seals but there was no mist hovering about the floor. _I see naught._ Baron glared at it for a moment. No matter how hard he tried, his eyes could not penetrate the blackness beyond. _I shall go forth._

After taking a few steps in, he realised that he had been transported somewhere. The floor was not stone but felt more like wood. It was dark around him. He couldn't see a thing. He began the spell for light but, all of a sudden, candelabras and a chandelier above him flared into life. The room was filled with warm yellow light, illuminating every corner of the room.

A mahogany floor stood beneath his feet. Rich tapestries decorated the wall and lavish drapes lined the windows. Stairs lay in front of him and at the top of them was a woman with long dark hair,

"Gabriel!" She gasped, moving quickly down the stairs, "Ist thou?" She was revealed to be wearing a kimono._ The finest weeds of Japan_, Baron recalled the pink flowers and the long sky-blue river sown into the peacock blue material. A white band of ribbon encircled her head, holding in place a pink flower made of charmed clay, "_Hokairinasai_."

"M-Mother..." Baron's eyes widened. It was his mother and the room was the Entrance Hall of Hogsmeade Manor. _Home._ His glasses slid down his nose slightly but he didn't raise his hand to push them back up. His mother; his own mother; whom he thought was gone, never to return, was standing right in front of him, her hair was long and loose, like it used to be,

"...Mother..."

His vision swam slightly. Tears blurred his vision, distorting the flowers and making the river bend where there were no bends before. He stood there, feeling weak at the knees and unable to hold back his tears. His mother was here; right here...standing in front of him...

His mother noticed Baron's face. She took hold of his face,

_She touches my face._ Baron's numb brain registered, _She is here...my mother in her habit as she lived…_With that, Baron gave a great sob and pulled his shocked mother in a rib-cracking hug. Her face was suddenly half-buried in his shoulder, since she was half a head shorter than him. Sobbing, Baron held her tight to his body, feeling the familiar intrusion of her katana in his stomach and the smooth familiarity of her hair. His mother, after a little pause, slipped her arms around him too,

"_Anata_..."

Baron held her tightly, gripping her kimono and breathing in the scent of her hair. He had already forgotten about Nekros and the Boggart's message. He'd even forgotten about Harry and the others, still looking for any Dark activity. In fact, he forgot about them altogether. _My home._ His hand was shaking. More tears seeped out through his eyelashes but he didn't care. All that mattered in the world was that he kept hold of her. His mother glanced over her shoulder and whispered,

"Thy father comes..."

Baron gasped. _Couldst be...?_ Slowly, hardly daring to believe it, he raised his head to look over his mother. It took a few moments to clear his vision of tears and then, the figure swam before him. The strong, benevolent figure of his father that he remembered from his youth. One strong piece of proof to support his existence was the girl standing next to him, holding his hand and wearing a golden dress. The brown curls framing her face made it unmistakable. It was Esther and the man was his father. Just like he had done with his mother, he embraced his father as hard as he could. The older man (who was the same height as Baron) smiled,

"How doth my long-awaited son?"

The girl stood back and hugged Baron from behind. Something unusual of her but it made him happy nonetheless. He slipped a hand away from his father and reached it back to join with Esther's. Baron wept with joy into his father's chest, something he hadn't done for a long time. _Am I awake? I feel as though I sleep, I dream. If dream 'tis, still let me sleep! But 'tis solid. 'Tis true. Wilt our brother come? It shall be soon,_

"Lay down thy sword, Gabriel." Esther whispered,

"_Sou-da_." His mother nodded, "The battle's done."

Baron went boneless with relief. _'Tis lost and won. Melancholy, farewell. Grief, adieu. And welcome to joy and to John..._

"But," his father suddenly raised Baron's head, "death still hath cause."

Baron gasped and stared. His happiness and hope had been snuffed out in an instant. His father let him go and so did Esther, their warmth disappearing in that split second and he felt suddenly alone. His mother nodded, "_Sa;_ cause, thou art..."

"But," Baron's insides seemed to vanish entirely as the memories all the people who died in the war came back to him. He wanted them to speak none of it. It was done, like they said, "the Dark Sorcerers..."

"Villain, are they none." Esther replied, simply. Her face bore that trademark sinister smile of hers, "'Twas their hands that sent souls' plight but 'twas thy presence that affect'd it."

"No aid can we donate, _anata_." His mother too was smiling simply, "Finish what thou begins. Without will, we have followed thee but no more."

"Gabriel," his father's grim expression had vanished, "we shall be thy family no more. The people must not know of our past loves. 'Tis no more. We will away and you will here remain, alone. Stay thou here and never mayst thou come our persons near." He made his way to the door. Baron wanted to stop him, to hold him back, but somehow his limbs didn't work for him anymore. All he could do was stand there; half in shock, unable to speak. He barely noticed the Moon Medallion cracking even more. As his father walked past him, Baron's throat became unstuck and he spoke his thoughts in a distorted, broken voice,

"Ist my hands that art bloodied?" More tears of a different kind streamed down his face. More familiar tears, "If I, from thy mother's blessed womb, hath brought the end of all life, wouldst it have proved better if I hath not come?"

His mother started moving towards the door behind him, "'Tis a thought..."

"It matters not." His father's voice came from behind him, "As thy birth was bloody, thy soul is bloody still."

"John is gone, murdered by thee," Esther added. Baron shook his head,

"No..." _Stop this..._

"Yea, fair brother of cruelty! You did love him so that you sent his soul to heaven." She felt her hands around his neck and her lips near his ear as she whispered, "_You are guilty of his blood._"

Baron wanted to turn around and catch them, to force them to stay with him but he became frozen again. The Moon Medallion cracked more, now looking like the surface of a plain after a drought. He heard the door close behind him with a snap. Two of Baron's tears dripped off his face; one by one...and onto the Moon Medallion. With a loud _smash_, the metal Medallion shattered like glass. Immediately, the shadows grew from the corners. The dark rash infected the walls, draining the colours. The warm colours drained, now looking cold around him. The red had darkened to the terrible colour of blood that he so despised and yet always wore. The colours too darkened and looked cold and gruesome. The candle flames turned a pale green and duller than before, draining all colour from the place; turning his once warm home into a colourless dungeon.

In an instant, the hangings were ripped, ragged and darkly stained. The same stain disfigured the floor and the ruined carpet. Some of the banisters on the stairs had been knocked out. That same dark stain hung everywhere. Whirling around in fright and confusion, Baron looked around desperately for salvation. In desperation, Baron threw himself to the window, trying to escape from this nightmare. He reached the broken window, already flecked with dark droplets of the staining liquid.

The windows had showed happy sunlight and bright colours when Baron had held his parents but now, it was grey, no life anywhere. The soil was turned over, making a grim No-Man's Land outside. The trees were dead; no leaves and parasitic plants living off it. Some had been blown apart all together. Others had been pulled up at the roots. The fruit that had graced them for the moment was now lying on the ground, split open in pieces, rotting, with flies and maggots writhing around them.

Unable to look anymore, Baron pushed his gaze away from it with a gasping sob. In a panic, his head bowed, he ran to the door, wishing to see nothing more of it. Anywhere; anywhere that wasn't here. He pushed hard against it. It flew open. He plunged through the doorway...and encountered darkness. Complete, impenetrable darkness. With no strength left in him anymore, he fell to his knees. There was no one around him. No one to comfort him. No one to tell him it was alright; no one to say that everything would be fine. No one there...no one there...

* * *

Onyx's laugh came from within the hood. Nekros teasingly reprimanded her with a finger to his helmet (where his mouth would be) and a, "Hush!" Onyx turned her hooded head to him, her sinister smile was clearly visible in his mind's eye,

"It's astounding!" She cackled, "Look at him!" Her thumb jerked to the motionless Baron, "He's broken and we haven't even touched a hair on his head!"

Nekros nodded, turning his head to where the Baron sat weakly on the floor, some ten feet away. Onyx's voice was loud enough to him to hear her but, he couldn't. He stared, unblinkingly, at the floor. There was an empty look in his eyes and his whole body was limp. Onyx crept over to him and gave his arm a sharp poke. No response. She lowered herself to him and touched his face. Still no response,

"You see, drive a sword through his heart or bash his head open and Baron will still have power in him. But hurt his soul by denying him those he loves and he is as good as ours."

It was Incubus's turned to laugh, "His spirit breaks as glass…" Baron then keeled over and lay unconscious, "...as thou beholdst." Onyx giggled with pleasure. _The Baron...lying helpless at our feet...what an opportunity!_ Without waiting for orders, Incubus came forward like a dog to a hambone. He knelt down by the prone enemy's side, turned him over and brushed aside some of the unconscious Baron's hair. His neck was now bare.

Nekros made no effort to try and stop Incubus. Not yet. He would always stop him just as he was about to get his own way. That was Nekros's style and what really made Incubus angry. Still, that made it all the more fun for Nekros. _Yet he never struck back. _Nekros always thought. _I wonder why._

Incubus bared over the Baron, his mouth opening, the fangs ready. Nekros smirked. Incubus could barely contain his excitement. He could almost smell the warm blood that would gush from where his fangs would strike. Blood that he would drink with pleasure. He had heard that the Baron's silver blood was the sweetest and most nourishing blood of all living things. Even more so than unicorn blood that it so resembled. Now, he'd find out if that was true…

"Enough, Incubus." Nekros waved his hand, as if wanting to sweep Incubus away. Incubus looked up, startled and disappointed. His fangs clenched as if ready to protest but whatever retort got caught in his throat and he remained silent. Nekros swept aside some of his hair and held up his head, proud and demanding authority, "It's no fun to just destroy him. Surely you both know that." He lowered himself and looked into the Baron's face. Definitely unconscious. Nekros addressed both Incubus and Onyx, "Let us use him to torture the others."

Incubus looked more interested, seeing this as an opportunity, "What wilt thou, master?" _That oily voice again...He just wants to get in my favour, _"Wilt thou deny me of his blood?" Nekros smirked behind his helmet,

"Take his wrist, not his neck. You can drink from him there."

Greedily, Incubus clasped hold of the Baron's wrist. The hand flopped hopelessly, proving Baron's helplessness, "Didst we ever think him an enemy?" He murmured, as he pushed back the sleeve. He saw the silver veins, looking so yielding and so tempting. Without so much as glancing at anything else, he fell upon the golden-brown flesh. The eager fangs pierced the flesh, that gave surprisingly little resistance. The stories were true; never had he tasted such succulent blood in all his experience.

He felt as though, through his blood, Baron was also giving him some of that legendary power that he was so renowned to have. He felt more powerful and he supped every last drop he could before Nekros snapped,

"Enough!"

Most reluctantly, Incubus relinquished Baron's wrist, that flopped back to the ground. Nekros shooed the other two away to the hiding place. This matter concerned him alone. He turned to his nemesis, sprawled on the floor, no weapons in his hands and his wrist still bleeding. _You are in my trap now, Baron. You will serve me. Now I will make you mine...

* * *

_

Baron woke to feel someone shaking him. _Ist done?_ He didn't want to open his eyes, in case it wasn't. He didn't want to be frightened. Not again. The thoughts of his surroundings; the dead earth; the shredded trees...He whimpered; curling up in a small ball, wishing more than ever that he was home. With his parents beside him...and with John. _O, John._ _Where art thou, brother? Esther gave me word of thy death...and 'twas my hand...O, I wish she hath mistook! O, heavens! Ist possible that mine sins are written upon me as songs on a page?_

"John..." A tear seeped out from his closed eyes, making his way across his nose. _I am alone…and you are gone..._

"Gabriel..." Fingers interlaced his own, worming their way into his fist. Shorter than his own long ones but he could feel the finely shaped nails and the soft skin against his slightly calloused hand. He recognised this hand. But...was it really...? He unfurled his body from its ball and rolled onto his back. The first thing he registered was that he was no longer lying the cold, hard surface from before. He unfurled his free hand and felt the surface. Cool blades of grass met his fingers. Warm sunlight caressed his skin and the sound of softly flowing water played around his ears.

Baron sighed. Was he in heaven at last? _Has dread mortality relinquished its poison grip? Hath I shed my sins? _His other hand was being lifted off the grass. He felt warm breath upon it before he felt a pair of soft lips press briefly against his knuckles. _'Tis our sign!_ Baron's eyes snapped open and looked around sharply.

There he was; his hair swept back into a ponytail, eyes bright and shining: John. He was holding his hand and smiling. Baron's eyes widened. _'Tis him._ All he wanted was to throw his arms around him and never let go. But he held himself back. Returning the sign was more important. He lifted John's hand to his lips and kissed it. John's prettily-shaped face broke into a big smile, "Thy memory serves thee, brother!" He sang happily. Baron sat up and, in one swift motion, he'd held John in a desperate embrace. The other boy embraced his stricken brother, patting his back gently, "There, Gabriel. 'Tis done."

A horrible thought had struck Baron. His sobs returned, "Thou-thou hast not…come to…relinquish me?"

"No," John whispered, gently ruffling Baron's hair, "thou art mistook."

"O, my thrice-fold beloved brother." Baron released John from the embrace and lay back down. He clasped John's hand, wanting to feel him there, and closed his eyes. John lay down too, lying on his side, turned to his older brother. Baron could feel John's warm breath on his cheek. _Didst it happen? Did I dream of that foul hell?, _"O, John." He sighed, "I am so affrighted. The most terrible demons haunted me in my sleep to give me their hateful fantasies. Methought I was abandoned by our kin"

He opened his eyes. Bright sunlight was pouring down from the heavens. It had been stormy there. So it must have been a dream. He actually laughed, hardly believing how silly he'd been. He turned to John, whose smile had faded a little, "No demons, Gabriel." He said, with his voice full of sadness, "I saw their traitorous flight and you all forsaken. Ne'er was a sight so pitiful as thy woe." His bright eyes shimmered with tears, "In thy grief, you saw it not but Harry and all those foul deceivers of thy companions crept, meaning to slaughter thee as thou slept." He gave a little sob, "'Twas a terror to see the demons they were!."

Baron sat up, staring. _Impossible..._Baron looked at his knees, the terrible truth dawning upon him. His friends…his family…all had left him because of what he'd done. He pulled up his knees and buried his face in them. Never…never would he escape his sins…

A hand rested on his shoulder. John had sat up and his eyes were full of tears, "Thou hast naught but I."

Baron smiled and squeezed his hand, "Yea." he nodded, a little reassured, "Hast I thee, hast I all." He embraced his brother again. Unseen, John's eyes flicked to Baron and a smirk crept over his face. _Yes, Baron. You are mine now. We'll never be apart..._

* * *

"Baron! _Baron!_"

Harry cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted down the corridor, not caring if it attracted the attention of any teachers. It had been a whole hour since they had began their search and so little progress was made that they had called it off. Another quarter of an hour later and Baron still hadn't turned up. Now, they were searching for him and getting increasingly worried.

_What if Baron had been kidnapped by Nekros?_ Harry remembered how Nekros had wanted to own Baron. _It's pretty likely then. _Harry sped up the corridor, thinking that he might be holding Baron hostage somewhere. A door stood in the middle of the corridor which led to the West Tower. He recalled Baron saying that he would scout the towers so he thought that he should check there for any clues. _Nekros might have left some kind of clue up there._ Hurrying past a painting of a wizard carrying a vial of bubbling potion, Harry focused on the door, setting off the Moon Mark as he went. He didn't know why but he had a feeling that he was on the right track.

A moment later, he was proved right. The door opened and Baron stepped out. _Thank goodness, _Harry thought, _he hasn't been kidnapped, _"Baron!" He called, relieved to find his friend unharmed. Baron stood in front of the door, motionless, his head down. Harry's relief was replaced by worry as he got closer. The first thing he noticed was his cloak. It had turned a dark violet, not unlike Nekros's or Incubus's. The Moon Medallion was merely a pile of metal shards on the floor; which caused Harry to worry a lot. His Medallion had shattered about half an hour ago. That meant the same had happened to Baron's, "Baron?" Harry slowed down, "What happened?"

Baron's face was tear-stained and dirty. His hair was all over the place. But the expression was one of pure hatred. He glared at Harry, his eyes alight with malice and looking horribly like Nekros. He raised a long finger and placed it to Harry's scar. The lightning scar gave a warning jab of pain. Harry looked into Baron's face and the change that had come over it. But he didn't have time to be surprised. Baron glared into Harry's eyes, the frozen emerald boring into him,

"_Avada Kedavra._"

* * *

A/N Cliffhanger, again! Keep on reading! 


	24. Brother

A/N: Wow! I've put a new chapter up _and_ a new fanart on my deviantart account. Geez, I can't be doing enough revision if I've got this much free time on my hands! Now, it the chapter you've all been waiting for (drumroll): it's the chapter when Nekros takes off his armour and we see who he is!

**binesab:** Okay, as to your questions, sorry. I can't answer them without spoiling the story and I _hate _spoilers! I'll just tell you this: whatever concrete idea you have about spirits, get it all out of your head. My spirits are a whole new concept. Not giving anything away here!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 24: Brother

"No!" Ginny's Expelliarmus struck Baron in the side not a second too soon. His finger flew up and the green jet of light hit a nearby statue instead. When the light cleared, the statue had lost most of its torso. The remains lay as scattered shards of stone. _Glad that didn't hit me._ Harry thought. _Hang on, _he looked back at Baron, who was pulling himself up to his feet, _that green light looked familiar._

An old memory rose up and played in front of his eyes as though it had just happened. A flash of bright green light...and a high, cold, cruel laugh. Harry realised. The green spell was the Killing Curse; the one that had killed his mother and father; the one that had given him the lightning scar. _Baron nearly killed me. _For a moment, Harry thought he was reliving that memory for the cold laugh was ringing through the corridor. But it wasn't just in his head. It was coming from Baron's mouth.

Baron stood there; laughing, staring and mad. Everyone else was staring too at the great change that had come over him. They were all strongly reminded of Nekros. Maybe it was the way his hair untidily hung around his face or the mad glint in his eyes...or both, "So, Harry," Baron's voice too sounded different, still with a hint of a laugh and it sounded mad, like his eyes, "how does it feel? To be betrayed?" Harry started to get a bad feeling that Nekros might have succeeded. This action didn't belong to Baron,

"Gabriel," breathed Sabian, who had been staring in shock at Baron beforehand, "_what _do you think you're playing at, lad?"

Baron laughed manically again, "Don't try to play stupid, Sabian." Even his words did not sound like they belonged with Baron, "We all know you're a bad liar." He turned around to turn his manic glare at him, "This is my retribution. You've lied for long enough. You've _all_ lied for long enough."

_What the...?_ Everyone frowned, confused. _What's Baron talking about?_ They couldn't think on that for long though. Baron pointed at Harry again, "_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Harry leapt out of the way just as another bright Killing Curse hurtled his way. This one blew a portrait to pieces, its occupants screaming in terror, running into other paintings. The other people in the paintings got the message and were fleeing for their lives, leaving only motionless landscapes, "_AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

The corridor glowed green, shards of stone, glass, canvas and china littered the floor and Baron stood in the middle of it, master of disaster, chasing the others, throwing Killing Curses at them. Sabian and Zirconia tried desperately to hold him back but Baron was too strong for them. He had not been given new power by the Dark Side but he still overpowered the both of them.

Snape suggested a retreat. The threat of an enemy might have said yes; but a maddened friend said no. They had to stay with him, even if it was dangerous. They tried to stun him, using every spell they could to try and stop him. Baron always batted them aside, coming back with another Killing Curse. The constant shout of 'Avada Kedavra' became a chant, a constant mantra, rising above all other sounds. The noises of teachers could be heard distantly but no one came to the rescue. Snape was starting to wish that Dumbledore was with them.

Baron's sudden energy knew no bounds. As the others began to tire, he still shot the curses with vigour and he missed them by a whisker. Ginny felt the life-sucking energy whizz past her ear and blast a chunk out of the wall. She was surprised that he hadn't blown a hole in the wall yet. In the end, Sabian and Zirconia saw there was only one thing for it (by that time, the corridor looked like several bombs had gone off within it). Their silver-winged staffs rose and, from them, glowing silver ropes fastened around Baron, making him unable to move at all.

But not for long. In an instant, a streak of light zipped down the ropes, making them vanish. Zirconia jumped to an immediate conclusion and stepped forward bravely.

"Nekros!" She shouted, "Wherever you are, get out here _now_! No one but no one brainwashes my _fiancé._"

Baron giggled, "Nekros has nothing to do with it. I know; Zirconia." He laughed madly. Everyone was starting to get scared of Baron now. His madness seemed uncontrollable. Even Zirconia was backing down a bit as Baron swaggered towards her, swaying as if drunk, "I know," he repeated, "He told me." Then, his staff appeared in his hand. The staff too had changed. Black silk had been wrapped around the silver wings making them all invisible and the wood had darkened to an ebony-like colour. In an instant, the staff had jabbed at the wall, where Zirconia would have been if she had not dodged at the last moment. The wall darkened and the stone _melted, _leaving a black crater in the middle of the wall.

Zirconia's high heels became her enemy as she dodged again and again. On the fourth dodge, she accidentally tripped and was sent sprawling on the floor. Baron stood over her and raised the staff. She froze with terror, realising what would happen. Her eyes screwed tight shut, waiting for the deathly hit.

But it never came. Tentatively, she opened her eyes. Baron was still holding his staff but something had stopped it dead in its tracks. That something was a wooden longbow with golden ends and double golden-stringed. These strings were as thin as spider's silk and glistened in the fading sun from the windows. _There's only one bow like that..._ She followed the red-robed arms that pushed the bow into the staff and to the face of the man on the other side of her.

Her jaw dropped. _Vaya..._The man was fair-haired (this hair was untidy and stood up at the back) and his dark green eyes were fixed on Baron. The same eyes as Baron. The face was contorted with effort. Baron and the stranger were locked in a vicious sumo match; Baron pushing with his staff, the stranger with his miraculously holding bow. Baron stared with even more madness in his eyes at this new opponent,

"_You_!" He glared at the man, who was looking intently back at him, madness increasing, "_Will you finally destroy me now?_" Sabian stared too,

"That's Edward!" He breathed, to no one in particular, "Gabriel's _father_! Oh my Lord, how did he get here?"

Baron and his father were in a stalemate; none of them were moving very much, their strengths paralleled. Zirconia saw this was getting nowhere. She traced a quick line with her finger, producing a streak of silver light. It hit Baron right in the stomach, knocking him out of the fight and onto the floor. It was obvious that his father was a true fighter since, with excellent reflexes, had put a golden arrow in the string. That arrow was visible for a split second before the string snapped back with its trademark chirruping _twang_ and the arrow was reduced to a glowing streak of golden light.

None of their eyes were quick enough to follow it. Before they could, the arrow had appeared again and its point had sunk into Baron's chest. Harry gasped in horror, forgetting Baron's madness and began to run forward. Sabian, however, caught him and held him back, "Gerroff, Sabe!" Harry had forgotten Baron being a ghost and was worried that the arrow had pierced his heart,

"It's alright, lad." Sabian reassured him. He had seen Edward do this many times, "That arrow will nae kill him."

Baron meanwhile reeled back from the blow. The arrow _had _sunk his heart and now, the magic it consisted of was getting into his blood like poison. His heart pumped it through the blood vessels so it spread very quickly. If he was in his normal state, it would have been a spread of warmth throughout his whole body, along with a surge of contentment. But now, it felt like burning poison surging through his veins. It felt like fire was inside him, killing him as it forced him to tire.

Edward ran forward to his son, nearly at the speed of his arrow, and caught him as Baron fell to the floor, convulsing and screaming, as if having a heart attack. Baron's glasses had long fallen off and he was pulling at the arrow with all his might, trying to pull it loose. Edward held his weakened son in his arms,

"Shh," He whispered, now benevolent and comforting. He stroked Baron's hair, "It's alright, now, son."

Baron glared up at him, malevolently, as though he wanted nothing better than to pull out the arrow and force it into his father's eye, "It kills me..."

"No," Edward saw the pain in his son's eyes. It pained him too and tears prickled in his eyes, unbidden, "Gabe, it just hurts because you've got bad magic in you. I'm not going to hurt you. This'll get rid of every speck of Nekros's magic in you."

Baron's movements were weakening. With his last ounce of strength, he reached up and fastened a hand around his father's neck. He began to squeeze, trying to choke him. It did hurt but, being a ghost, his father had no breath to squeeze out of. Hate was prominent in Baron's eyes. Edward could not bare to see it but he looked right into his son's eyes nonetheless,

"Everything'll be fine." he whispered, gently holding his son close. He stroked Baron's hand, "Sleep now, Gabriel." He lowered his voice so it was quiet and reassuring, not firm and ordering, "Forget your pain and anger. Go to sleep."

Baron's eyes drooped. The arrow was sapping his energy, pulling him into the depths of slumber. The pain slipped away as his other senses ceased to resist the magic. Only an inexorable warmth remained. Exhaustion was beginning to increase its hold on him, dragging him down into sweet oblivion. His hand could not grip his father's neck any longer so it fell right into Edward's waiting hand. His hand was lifted and pressed against his father's cheek. Baron could feel the familiar satin feel of his father's gloves and the warmth of his face, just as his vision began to cloud. His anger and hate faded. Tears seeped from his eyes. Before sleep claimed him, he managed out, "_Father_..."

* * *

Edward watched as his son gently relaxed, forgetting his anger and becoming peaceful. He smiled tearfully. The arrow spell had worked. Deep sleep had claimed Gabriel. Every now and again, the arrow protruding from his chest would emit a golden glow. It was that arrow that was holding his son in slumber. As soon as Edward pulled it out, the spell would break and he would awaken.

Edward noticed that, when Baron was awake and normal, he looked older than he should, like he knew more than he should, like he'd seen more sadness than he should. Now he was asleep, he looked like a normal teenage boy, all darkness and sadness gone. It had been a long time since he'd had the privilege of seeing his son sleep. He slung Baron's arm around his shoulders (noticing the puncture marks in the wrist), picked him up in his arms and disappeared into the Moon Medallion. As soon as he reached the dimly lit place, Edward set down his son on the sofa. His wife was waiting for him. She swept back her long hair and turned to her husband, "What happened?"

"He was brainwashed. By Nekros but I reckon Incubus had a hand in it too, judging by those bites." The arrow glowed again. This time, the glow radiated through his chest. Baron exhaled quietly and a trickle of black magic rose from his mouth like cigarette smoke. In the atmosphere around it, it faded, burning out before it had risen ten feet, "There you go." He grinned, "It's leaving him now."

As they watched, their son breathed out the Dark magic from his system, a new stream of it rising from his mouth with every breath. Twelve times he breathed until, with the dozenth breath, he sighed deeply, the last of it forced out of his body. There was a smile on his thin face. Christine too smiled, now that Baron was back to normal. Someone else in the room was not happy with this,

"Wake him up!"

Christine jumped and looked round. Edward was less surprised but he hadn't seen him coming. In the dim room, Nekros had been almost invisible. Now, he stepped into the light. He inched towards Baron but still glaring at the pair. Christine carefully raised her hand to take hold of her sword but her husband stopped her with a small shake of his head, "Wait." he whispered, "Look what he's doing."

She looked back. Nekros had crossed to Baron and was pulling at the arrow. He was feverish, desperate, "No...no...! Don't succumb to them...you have the strength to fight…you are _mine_!" The arrow remained there as if it were an extra arm, attached to Baron. Even with his strength, he could not budge it. The sleeping boy did not respond to any of this. He just lay there, his body lolling lifelessly.

Nekros abandoned this and shook him, his voice rising, "_Wake up! Wake up! I command you! I own you! You __**will**__**obey me!**_"

Still, Baron serenely slept on, unaware of what was happening. Not even changing his breathing pattern. Nekros then did the most unexpected thing in the world. He clasped Baron's face, so close now that they were almost nose to nose, "_Please..._" he pleaded in a whisper, sounding desperate, not angry, "_please...open your eyes...Open your beautiful eyes...Look at me...Speak to me..._" But Baron did not. Too strong was the spell that he did not hear Nekros's plea. Nekros turned his rage on Edward and Christine, "Wake him up." He commanded,

"No." Edward answered, simply,

"Wake him up!" Nekros repeated with more anger,

"No." Edward repeated,

"If you don't wake him up now-"

"Why do you want to own him?" Edward asked, making Nekros stare. Nekros stammered for a moment,

"H-his power is great!" It was obvious that he had just made that point up on the spot, "He will be on our side...!"

Edward shook his head, "You're lying." Nekros flinched and was about to say something along the lines of 'I'm not' when Christine said,

"_Anata;_ you miss him." Nekros glared at her but didn't do anything, "We know who you are. You want him on your side because you love him." Guilt was starting to catch up with Nekros. He traced an awkward, invisible pattern with his foot,

"He doesn't love me." he mumbled, "He just loves John, not me." Edward shook his head,

"You haven't been keeping a close eye on him, have you?" He strode over to Baron and lifted up his arm by the wrist. After undoing the cuffs, he gently pushed back the sleeves. Christine swallowed hard at the sight of the scars adorning Baron's wrists, now looking very out of place on his skin. Nekros actually spluttered a little. _Surely he hadn't got those during fighting!_

"Y'see?" Edward gestured at the scars, "He's been cutting himself because he missed you so much. He still loves you more than anything. He knows, Nekros…where did you get that name…He knows who you really are. And we've just found out. Gabriel…" He sighed, pushing some of his son's dark hair out of the way, "…he's never given up hope. He's going to keep waiting for you. He's never going to stop. Never."

"Stop it!" Nekros snapped, in barely a whisper, taking a step back though no weapons were drawn,

Edward took Nekros by the shoulders, "He needs you."

Nekros stared. He looked from Baron to Edward and from Edward to Baron. Then, he slowly raised his hands and began to take off his armour.

* * *

Baron slowly came to consciousness. The ache in his chest had vanished but Baron remembered the previous events all too well. _O, am I such a fool? _He raised his hands and clutched his hair as the full weight of it came down on him, "I did but dream. Aye, a dream, full of manifestations conjured by their dark art! O, Harry, wilt thou forgive me? Or wilt thou see what weak and unprevailing boy am I? O, God! Dost thou give always give thy sight with slings and arrows?"

He opened his eyes and sat up. The first thing he noticed was that he was in the Moon Medallion interior; lying on a sofa. Looking down, he saw the small hole in his shirt where the arrow had struck. With some relief, he saw that his cloak had turned back to white and had lost the rips and burns they had gained during the fight. The Moon Medallion hung around his neck, "Tis broken, still"Ruefully, he fingered the splits in the metal.

Sighing, he lay back down, running a hand through his hair. He made an impulsive glance to his right and saw...something there. Like a figure but with a horned head. He had long learned to recognise this odd figure. Nekros. He leapt to his feet. His staff was in his hand ready to challenge him but Nekros didn't rise. He sat on the sofa in front of him, his hands clasped in his lap, his head bowed slightly. Baron scowled,

"Foul devil! What black devil conjures thee here?" demanded Baron, in a snappish voice, "Means thou to scorn my sorrow? Or weave thy visions upon mine eyes? What ist thy _purpose_?" He added, with vehemence. When Nekros failed to reply, he gave him a jab in the shoulder, "_Speak!_"

Only then did Nekros look up. Even though his face was covered, it looked different. _Doth this light counterfeit?_

"Please," His voice, too, sounded different. It had lost its wickedness and sent a pang through the Baron's heart. It was the voice of John, penetrating through the waning darkness of Nekros, "please, don't be angry at me."

_O, heaven…_Baron gripped his staff hard. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, "What canst I be but vengeful? What reason do I to make peace with thee?"

"Because..." Nekros was faltering, something quite unlike him, "...I've come...to..."

"Speak, thou toad." Baron was getting a little impatient, "Or, art thou all croaks?"

Nekros took a deep breath but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he raised his hands and gripped his helmet. At that moment, it came over Baron like a thunderclap that Nekros did not have his armour on. Only his surcoat and cloak. Even his feet were bare. He looked strangely small and poor without them. Like a street beggar.

Nekros then removed the helmet entirely and revealed his face for the first time in too many years to count. _O, angels and ministers of all good..._ So little had changed in his face. He could identify every feature that belonged to John._ O, if your face were not blackened, thou wouldst be my brother. _His overgrown hair was held back by a small white sort of turban on his head. Baron's hands began to shake. His staff had long vanished. He would not attack his brother.

Almost unbidden, Baron's hands then found John's face. The skin was cold due to the blackness in it but it was still smooth, a pleasure for him to touch. Nekros touched Baron's hand and finally found his voice, "He came. Your father. He told me that you still loved me. Is that true?"

"Indeed." Baron was choking slightly. The tears were rising like floodwaters, held back for centuries but now threatening to burst the barriers. Hands shaking, he fought the urge to just hold him tight and never let go. It had been centuries since they'd been together like this and yet. neither of them knew quite what to say to each other. An emotional silence followed. Before they knew it, they were getting closer and closer to one another. Neither of them took their eyes off each other's faces.

Words failed them. As did their voices. They could only look at each other and cry. Nekros's tears were the more noticeable. They were larger than normal tears and bore their own sparkle. They slid lazily down Nekros's cheeks, as though they were as thick as blood. They fell to the floor and shimmered there like liquid crystals. It was astounding that something that looked so evil could cry so beautifully. He shrugged off his cloak, raised his hands and grasped a handful of hair.

It came off in one fluid movement and Baron realised that the overgrown sheet of hair he was famous for was in fact a wig all along. It lay on the floor like a horrible hairy dead monster. Underneath was his natural hair. It was the same colour as the wig but it was shorter, only brushing his shoulder-blades. About the same length as Baron's and looking like it hadn't been washed in years. Finally, Baron took hold of Nekros's face and whispered,

"Who am I, John?"

Nekros looked up through his tears. He saw how Baron's eyes were frozen, paralyzed in a permanently sorrowful look. _Had I done that? Is it because I turned against him that he became like this?_ He took a deep breath to try and calm himself without succeeding,

"You're my brother."

At that instant, an invisible barrier between them broke apart and crumbled. One they never knew was there but now, it was gone. It only took a moment but now, everything changed in an instant. During the silence, they were in each other's arms before they knew it. Baron buried his face in Nekros's hair, not caring that it was greasy and limp. Nekros gripped Baron's shoulders, shaking with silent sobs. The full weight of the war came on them in an instant; all the suffering, all the pain and all the guilt. Neither of them could bear it. They just wanted to hold each other. Nekros buried his face into Baron's chest,

"Gabriel," he sobbed, "I-I can't ask you to forgive me..."

"Ne'er can thee ask. I hath done't" Baron reassured him, "It is I whom forgiveness should be begged."

"O, don't make fun of me!" Nekros said, a little reproachfully, "As if anything you have done can be as bad as that!"

Baron did not answer. And he didn't need to. They could not argue with each other. Not now. Their Moon Items clinked together but apart from that, the place lay silent. They had no idea how long they had stood there with each other. Baron had no windows connected to the mortal world. He didn't have any clocks. There was absolutely no way of telling how much time had passed.

There was no interruption to this. It was as quiet as sleep and, indeed, the thought crossed their minds that it might be a dream. But no; this was real. Baron's mind told him that the others would be getting worried and he ought to get back. But he never moved once.

Baron then became conscious of the fact that a sudden warmth was spreading through Nekros's body. He opened his eyes and saw Nekros look up. Even though his face was still tear stained, he was smiling happily. He took a few steps away from Baron, still smiling, and closed his eyes. Baron saw the source of warmth. A bright white glow was spreading up his body, obscuring every feature of his body. Only a blank figure stood before him.

Baron was worried for a moment but this light seemed to bear no threat. He watched as the figure-that-had-been-Nekros raise his head to the heavens, as though light was pouring down upon him. He then rose about two or three feet in the air as if he were about to fly. He hung there as if on a string, his hair softly blowing around him. He reached out a bright hand, which Baron took, seeing what he wanted. The hand felt warm and it gripped tightly. Baron had sharp eyes and immediately, began to see subtle changes in his body. Seeing things that Nekros didn't have but John did. Small things like the shapes of the limbs and the size of the chest. He could feel the fingers changing too.

Soon, the figure floated down and touched down in a standing position. _O, reveal thyself!_

Soon, the glow faded and the figure's features came back into focus. But, it was not Nekros. It was a boy who couldn't be more than two years younger than Baron. He was wearing nothing but Nekros's old surcoat so most of skin was visible. It was tanned like Baron's but the similarities stopped there. He had a small, upturned nose, a heart-shaped face and finely shaped limbs. His eyes were startling blue and very large. That was his most distinguishing feature that Baron remembered well.

For the first time in three hundred years, Baron's face lit up like a Christmas town square. At once, the dark, quiet young man was gone and was replaced by the joyful boy he had been in his youth, shining through the mask of an adult. Before he knew it, he had stood there for a whole minute as John took in his features,

"The spell's broken." he said, as he ran a hand over his chest. Baron nodded. Still, words failed him. He stood there, smiling. John looked up at him, "Is there anything wrong, Gabriel? You're so quiet."

Baron felt happy tears rising in his eyes, "Silence is the best herald of joy."

John laughed happily. His merry laughter rang around the room. With that sound, the memories flooded back. Those hours of happiness spent with John, every time that they laughed...all those happy memories he had not thought of before then came back like a vivid dream. Baron laughed too, "Thrice welcome, lost John!" He scooped John into his arms and hugged him tightly. John laughed happily as he hugged Baron like a teddy bear.

After a moment of joyful embracing, they separated and John grinned playfully, "Catch me if you can!"

Those five magic words sparked off a great chase around the room. Now was a time of play. Baron's transformation was most noticeable at that point. He was a boy again. He ran after John, laughing like he used to. From this chase came games which, when looking back, neither of them really knew exactly what. At some point, it might have been Tig, though neither of them knew who was It. Other times, it might have been Hide and Seek, for sometimes they hid from one another playfully and popped out after a certain amount of time. Then, a small water fight reigned as Baron turned all the wine on the rack into water, John uncorked the bottles and water flew everywhere. They up-ended the bottles on each others' heads and on themselves.

They capered around the room, knocking over chairs and singing all the songs they knew from their childhood. Baron even Summoned his violin from his room and began merrily playing as John danced on the table and sang with his brother. When his arms ached, John produced a flute from his surcoat and played lilting, merry tunes as Baron took over the song and dance.

The sound of singing and laughter never stopped for a whole hour. After the hour had passed, soaking and exhausted, John and Baron flopped down on a sofa that had been tipped over and was lying on its back. They gazed at each other, lying on their sides with loving eyes. Their hands clasped together and they huddled close together. The tips of Baron's soaked hair touched John's forehead,

"John," he whispered, "thy absence hath been a weight in my bosom."

"I missed you, too, Gabriel." John's hands found Baron's waist and they were now so close that their noses touched.

* * *

While they had played, their parents had retreated for fear of getting wet. Now everything had gone quiet, they crept back into the room. The first words from their mother's mouth was, "_Ara_! What a mess!" Tables and chairs were overturned, water covered the floor and the furniture; a violin and a flute lay forgotten.

Lying on the back of an upturned sofa lay John and Baron, holding each other and fast asleep.

* * *

A/N: I know, that was a bit of an anti-climax but I did it for a reason! And, no, not because I couldn't think of anything else! 


	25. Father

A/N: Okay, last chapter was a bit of an anti-climax but I'll redeem myself slightly with this. The end of this chapter's got something interesting in it.

Update (9/4/08): A tiny correction

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 25: Father

Ginny and Zirconia woke up very tired and their joints ached. They had spent the last night clearing up the mess made by Baron's rampage and then wiping everyone's memories of what happened. _Now I know how the Obliviators feel._ Ginny had thought while they were working and these thoughts returned to her when she made her way to the door. _Definitely not a good career choice._

They came down to the Common Room the next morning to find Harry, staring at the portrait hole _without _Baron, "Where's Gabriel?" asked Zirconia, "Has he not come back from the Moon Medallion?"

"Yeah, he did." Harry nodded, "He was here a minute ago but he was acting really weirdly. He just left, saying he had to meet someone."

Both of them raised their eyebrows, "Who? His father?" They couldn't settle on a solution so went out of the portrait hole and went down the corridor to search for him. They split up to search for him, despite Harry's worries of someone getting lost again. Harry ran down the deserted corridors, looking in empty classrooms. _Where are you, Baron? _He went down countless corridors and looking in too many rooms to keep track of until he finally found him.

He was sitting on the steps outside the castle doors but he wasn't alone. At first, he thought that it was Lucius Malfoy because of the white blond hair but the person was too small to be him and he was wearing bright blue and a white cloak. Baron was happily chatting with the person and, as Harry approached, the stranger laughed, "Might have known, Gabriel. I can't believe you actually rode with Harry. We couldn't even get you on the broom!"

"I had no alacrity of spirit when I didst..."

Harry then made his presence known by clearing his throat. They looked round and the young boy next to Baron grinned, "Oh, hi there! You must be Harry. Gabriel's told me loads about you!" He held out his browned hand. The face of the boy rang a bell but he couldn't remember from where. Harry shook though not without giving him a look that said plainly 'Who the heck are you'. The blond seemed to know this look and said, "Tell you what; let's go to Severus' office and get the others over there. We can tell you all then."

What exactly the person wanted to tell them Harry had no idea but next thing he knew was that he was being ushered into the dungeons by Baron and the stranger. Harry had no idea why Baron was being so friendly towards him. He was never usually like this towards strangers. They descended into the dungeons and when they got there, they heard Snape and Sabian talking within, "...Excuse me, laddie, but I _am_ taller than you are! Or I'll...ah...make myself taller..."

The stranger shook his head, "That's Sabian alright. Really self conscious about his height!"

Baron nodded, smiling. He then turned to Harry, "Speak not of him when we enter."

"Uh...okay..." Harry still did not understand what was going on. _Why on earth was Baron smiling like that?_

Baron placed his left palm on his chest and Harry could hear the summons to Snape's office in his head. Then, he led a still-bewildered Harry into Snape's office. The stranger hid behind the door. Luna and Madam Topaz were first to come in as always; Luna looking like she might have drifted in by accident and Madam Topaz striding in purposefully despite the fact that her eyes were covered, bringing with her the trademark scent of water lilies and the odd catch of song. A moment later, Ginny and Zirconia (who looked just as baffled as Harry) entered. They all looked at Baron,

"So, Sir, what news have you to tell us?" Snape asked, having assessed the situation using the Moon Eye,

Baron poked his head around the door, "Come."

He came back in with the stranger and, who'd seemed to have come from nowhere, Malfoy. Sabian and Zirconia's eyes both simultaneously widened as they set eyes on the unfamiliar boy, "John?"

"_Vaya_!"

John nodded, with his arm around Draco, "Hello, everyone." Everyone took this time to take him in. Ginny thought he looked a little feminine with his heart-shaped face and shining eyes but his flat chest assured her of his gender. He wore more casual-looking clothes than his brother: trainers, jeans and a white cloak but his school shirt was a bright turquoise to match his eyes and he wore a grey, woolen tank-top over it. This appearance was rather like one of a boy just out of school,

"But..." Sabian stared at the Moon Ring around his neck, which caught the light most prominantly, "You...where's Nekros?...How..."

But John was laughing at his stutter, "Sabe, don't you get it? _I_ was Nekros! It was me all this time! I was staring you in the face while you were looking for me!"

"I had knowledge of it," Baron put in, as many eyes widened, "His voice, however darkèd with wickedness, was his still. 'Tis the reason why, with no malice, I didst battle him."

John nodded, "When Gabriel's father brought him into the Moon Medallion, I followed and...well, him, Mother and I can a talk and they persuaded me to stop being Nekros." He looked around nervously for any distrust in their eyes, "I'm really sorry for all I did. I know it'll take a long time for me to repent for all I've done but I promise I won't go back to the way I was. Promise!" His big, babyish eyes was his ally since no one seemed to have any second thoughts, "Ginny, is that your name? I want everyone to see something important. Seventeenth of December, 1697, around two in the afternoon and at the Blake farm outside Lancaster."

Ginny got out her Moon Mirror, enlarged it, propped it on its stand and said the details that John told her. A picture of a snowy field appeared. There was a wrecked farmhouse on one side of it that was smoking. A school must have been nearby for a boys' choir could be heard in the distance. They could catch the words, "_Kyrie eleison..._"

Two men were approaching one another in the centre of the plain. One they recognised as Nekros, wearing the usual sort of things he always did. The other was Baron with his hood up against the wind and holding his staff. His expression was hard to read; he looked set and yet saddened like nothing they had seen before. The two men came right up close to one another and Nekros sneered,

"Why wouldst thou with me?"

Baron sighed and spoke in a slow, sad tone, "I am dissatisfied, John." Nekros flinched at his old name but kept his ground,

"All thou knowest, thou knowest from me." Nekros pointed out, slyly, "I have none since the traitorous creature didst die. Come to me. Ne'er a man shall destroy us!"

"I hath discover'd these powers for thee, yea." Baron sighed, "Strode the Seven Stages in hope and suffered, I, for't. 'Twas I that was so wrong'd by those in Ministry, 'twas they that suffered and suffered I. 'Twas those poor unfortunates that you have packed with post horse up to heaven or else are so weighted down to this treacherous earth by thy hand, 'twas they that suffered and suffered I. I encloseth thy secret in my poor heart. But, alack, my soul weakens…"

"What ist?" Nekros looked surprised, "You hath borne the burden and gave no poison drop of it? Thou liest!"

"I lie for thee," Baron shook his head, "and I will bear this poisonous knowledge in my scarr'd, silver heart."

Nekros glared at him, "It is I that made thy heart silver. I, who keeps thy heart of flesh so preserv'd. Yet, thou didst naught to me these seven dozen months. Thou hast given me battle, aye. Thou hast, however, done me no harm. Thy servants hath burned the blood-lusting creature's face and rid my wench of her arm. I doth wonder..._why_?" He said the last word with a hard stare accompanying it, the red eyes burning more than ever. Baron shook his head and then turned away,

"Because thou hast my brother's soul. Thou blackened, torturous crow of a body encloseth my poor John's heart. Didst thou not kill? Didst thou not torture? Ay, me, I seen the ruin of our house," his shoulders heaved with a great sigh, "and I am as stainèd as thou. Thou hast walk'd this world too long. And I have given thee thy legs with my weak and shrinking hands." he shook his head, "They hath laid their lives on a coward's sword." he then turned back and raised his staff, "And thus, I take thy legs again."

"To murder me?" Nekros placed his hands on his hips, "Thou knowest of the Moon Ring, I will return!"

"Yea, thou canst and so may I. In that uncertain future, willst we meet again? I am sure of't. In that golden dew of immortality and spirits, we shall meet, aye. But let us not forever be enemies. My heart yearns for that most glorious day when we shall embrace as damnèd brothers." Nekros frowned but didn't say anything. Baron then lowered his staff and stepped forward, "But know this," he said in a cracking voice, "thou art...and always will be...my belovèd brother..." it almost pained him to say the name, "John Cinclion."

He turned away but had only took a few steps before his eyes filled with tears, he came to a halt and then, before he could stop himself, he had rushed back to Nekros and engulfed him in a desperate embrace, sobbing into his shoulder, "O, thou! O, thou lov'd and thou despis'd!" he choked, through uncontrollable sobs and tears that had been held back for seven years, "Ne'er let it leave thy mind of what thy soul!" Nekros just stood there; not returning the affection but not pushing him away. He was trying to understand...

Baron then, slowly, as though savouring every moment with his brother he had left, raised the staff (that turned into a wand as long as a sword) and pressed the metal tip in the place between the helmet and the metal protecting the neck where there was no protection, "Until that golden, joyous day...when we hath the freedom of our companionship..." he closed his eyes for a moment to try and make his voice sound less strained, his whole body lurching in one last great sob, "...farewell..." He then furrowed his eyebrows as if it was taking everything in him to do this, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Ginny and Zirconia looked away from the Mirror as there was a blinding flash of green light that illuminated the tears on Baron's face. Snape pulled a face as Sabian hid behind his shoulder. When the light cleared, they all slowly looked back. Baron was standing as though frozen and Nekros's body was slumping from his grasp into the snow. Only, it wasn't Nekros. It had now turned into John, the armour vanishing to be replaced by the same sort of clothes Baron was wearing and the Moon Ring had vanished.

The scenery stood still. The wind stopped howling and blowing. The smoke from the farm disappeared into the air. The singing from the church stopped. There was a very empty silence; almost as if the world had died with John. Zirconia buried her face into Ginny's cloak and Ginny put her arms around her, wearing an expression like she wanted to cry but was determined to keep it together. Sabian peeked out from Snape's shoulder and just stared, shaking his head, forgetting that this had already happened. Draco lifted his head from his hands and was wearing an expression suitable to one who had just been smacked in the face.

The Baron in the mirror then lowered his wand, which hit the snow with a soft thump, looking as shocked as any of them sitting in the office at what he had just done. He half collapsed beside the body. He whispered in a low voice, "O, this fell fortune hath my hand."

He then just lost all hold of himself and wept more than he had ever done before, He cradled his brother's body close to him and sobbed into his chest. The Moon Medallion then shattered into pieces and they fell in a heap on the ground. Baron pulled something out of John's pocket and found that it was the stone knife that Nekros had used. Baron looked at it for a moment, as if considering something. Then he said to it,

"Thou cold executioner, take thy last life!"

Baron parted his clothes over his chest and, without hesitation, plunged the knife into his heart. They heard his laboured breathing. The clothes darkened and fine trickles of sparkling silver blood seeped down his chest. He looked up. They saw another trickle of blood run from the corner of his mouth and his whisper that somehow sounded less strained than when he was about to kill Nekros, "Your cruel blade hath stopped...my broken heart. However, I die blessing thee...," he kissed John's forehead, "and forgiving thee."

He then slumped over John's heart so their hearts touched and the knife was pushed in further. Baron was dead. The Mirror clouded but Ginny did not go to pick it up straight away. She was in shock among most of the others. Zirconia was shaking her head in disbelief like Sabian. Baron and John looked grim as though they had seen something they really didn't want to see again.

"Potter," Snape had noticed something and decided to break the silence, "Have you noticed that the Moon Medallion isn't cracked anymore?"

Harry looked down and saw that Snape was quite right. Harry stared and held it up to the light to check that it was no trick. He turned to Baron, "How's that, Baron?"

"I will answer that." Madam Topaz stood up, "The Moon Medallion is a reflection of Gabriel's heart. The night John was cast from the house, it shattered around his neck. For his heart had broken. It remained cracked for of the wounds on his heart had not yet healed and left unsealing scars. It shattered a second time when he killed John because he could not bear his guilt and his heart broke again. Now, John has returned. The only thing that has kept his heart intact. And now, it has mended."

"I did nae know that Moon Items reflected hearts." Sabian said, wonderingly, "Speaking of Moon Items," He then remembered something, "where did Edward come from?"

"Who's Edward?" Malfoy asked, curiously,

"Me!" said a voice behind them, grandly, "The late, great Edward Cinclion, folks!"

Everyone stared at Edward as he came in completely unannounced and grinning. He propped his golden dragon-head cane against Snape's desk and placed his top hat on his cane. He gave everyone a very wide grin and promptly perched himself on the desk. Snape looked intently at him, "My, my, you bear an extraordinary resemblance to Lucius Malfoy!"

"Yeah! Y'know, I went into Hogsmeade the other day and a few people asked me whether I was Lucius's long lost twin brother!" he laughed, "Isn't that so weird?" He laughed again and everyone joined in. It was unanimously decided by everyone that they would like Edward, "Well, that's hardly surprising. He's my host after all."

"How d'you know?" John frowned and then, added quickly, "Mr Cinclion."

"Huh?" Edward frowned, "What's all this 'Mr Cinclion' business about? I'm your dad, right?"

John looked away, "Don't you remember?" he sounded a little upset, "My father isn't you. I'm not your child, remember?" It seemed to pain him to talk about it, "I was born out of Mother's one-night stand with your cousin. That's why you hated me. That's why you threw me out!" And then he burst into tears. He pressed an arm against his face, covering his eyes,

Edward's face darkened for the first time, "Ah, yeah." he nodded, lowering his head rather sadly. He leapt lightly off the desk and put an arm around John, "Listen, John. We all make mistakes." John raised his head, hardly daring to hope, "'Spose it was because you didn't look like me very much. Turned out that. biologically, you are my child." John's glistening eyes widened, "C'mere!" With that, he scooped John into his arms just like Baron had done the night before and spun him around like a little child. John giggled with happiness as he embraced his father back.

Snape decided to increase the light in the dungeon so they could get a good look at him. Ginny and Draco got quite a shock when they realised that his build was exactly the same as Lucius Malfoy, not to mention his face. The only differences were his dark emerald eyes (identical to Baron's) and the wide smile. His hair, white blond, was scruffy, stuck up mostly at the back when he took off his red top hat.

His clothes were bright shades of red and gold (_Looks like a perfect Gryffindor. _Snape thought, frowning slightly). He wore a red robe designed rather like a trenchcoat with robe sleeves and the lining was shining gold. The hems and cuffs were decorated with gold patterns and, on the back, was a shining, embroidered phoenix rising from glittering flames. This same emblem was present on the golden waistcoat. Underneath his robe was a slightly scruffy suitlike outfit. The waistcoat was ablaze with bright colours with flames that looked like they could move (Harry wasn't sure whether he didn't see them move a little). The phoenix's head was upturned to the ceiling, its mouth open in silent song and its wings outstretched.

His hat was bright red with a golden tie around it and a red and gold feather which Ginny was positive was a phoenix feather. The theme of flames was present in nearly every piece of clothing: around the rim of his hat, on the gold tie, on the collar of his white shirt and even on the hems of his trousers.

After their embrace, John was puzzled, "If Lucius is your host, why hasn't he known it? When do you plan on letting know about your presence?"

Edward gave a surprised blink and paused as though he had not really thought about that and it was clear that he hadn't, "Ah..." he began to mess up his hair thoughtfully. Snape blinked. _That's what James Potter used to do!_ Edward's fringe fell into his eyes in a rather handsome way. He paused and felt where it had fallen. He grinned, "Hey, I like this look." He then turned to John, "Well, I've given it a lot of thought," _No, he has nae, _Sabian thought, "and I think that there's no rush. If Lucius really needs me or if I really need him, then I might think about showing myself."

* * *

That night, Baron was filling John in on what had happened in the past two terms. Edward was with them; not because he wanted to know about what happened (he already knew) but because he wanted to see Baron's side of it. Then, a strange, silvery blue light streamed in through the window that was certainly not moonlight. They peered out and saw that small specks of light was hovering all over the grounds like fireflies, glowing turquoise blue. They skimmed the lake and some zoomed around the spires, as if in celebration.

The two brothers hurried out along with their hosts into the grounds, Edward level with Baron (both shared quick feet). They found the others in the grounds, staring in awe at them, along with some of the other students who had seen it and come outside to see what was going on, "What's going on, here?" wondered Sabian. John thought for a moment, caught one in his hand, had a good look and then said after releasing it,

"I think that they're all the souls that have been imprisoned in the Moon Ring until now. When I was Nekros, the only thing keeping them there was a spell. But now that Nekros is no more, the spell's broken and now they're free. I suppose they're having a little celebration of having their memories back and being able to move on."

Draco nodded. _That would explain why all the doors opened..._

"There's quite a lot of them, aren't there?" Snape frowned, "At least half a thousand, I'd say."

"Not all taken from the era where I was alive." John spoke in a voice of a mentor, contrasting with his previously childish nature, "Y'see, I created Dementors, right? And I know all their abilities that not even the Ministry knows. Now, they think that when a Dementor sucks out your soul, then, it's gone. No way of getting it back. Not so! Whenever a Dementor sucks out a soul, it's transported to the Moon Ring. So you could say that Dementors are like doorways to it."

"What'll happen now if the Ministry wants a Dementor's kiss performed?"

"Dunno." John shrugged, "Maybe it'll go back into the body halfway through or it simply won't work. The Dementors definitely felt Nekros vanish. I know it."

Just then, the lights zoomed up into one and became a bright sphere of light. Everyone's eyes turned up to see what was to happen next. A few moments later, something fell from it slowly. People's eyes were not following it though so obviously, it was invisible to all but the spirits and their hosts. The object floated down and hovered in front of John. He cautiously took hold of it and the soft light emanating from it faded.

He opened his hands. He gasped. It was a circular, black jewel, sparkling brightly. He took hold of it in one hand and held it up to the light as the souls separated again and seemed to dance in the air all around them, "Wow," he said, cradling it, "Is it for me? It's so beautiful!"

He fastened it to the space in his collar and turned round, "So, what do you think, you guys?" Draco gave it a hard look. He was sure he had seen it before...

* * *

On Harry's birthday, the Dursleys completely ignored it, Harry had been sent four cakes from his friends and he couldn't be happier. Baron too said that he had a present for him and, after a lunch of carrot sticks in lettuce followed by a private course of cake, he brought it out. It was what looked like a wooden crate covered by a black cloth, "Severus didst inform me of your snake tongue. A rare gift."

"But," Harry said, getting a nasty feeling that he knew what was in the box and wondering what on earth Baron was doing with it, "Parselmouth is supposed to be the mark of a Dark Wizard."

"Gift, tis still." Baron said, patiently, "Dark Wizard, art thou none. Any tongue of creature is gift. Hath I the whisper of unicorns." With that, he pulled away the cloth and undid the lock of the crate, opening it. Inside, in a corner, glistening brown coils and raising its sleepy head, was a live but small snake. So small that the crate seemed unnecessarily large. Harry's eyes widened. _How did Baron manage to get her in the house? If Aunt Petunia saw that..._Harry then realised how very alike the snake was to the boa constrictor that he'd accidentally released on his only trip to the zoo,

"Boa Constrictor." Baron said, confirming Harry's suspicions. Baron didn't seem quite as cautious of the creature as Harry, "This lady be named Visahari. She is thine own." Visahari raised her head and looked from Baron to Harry, "Hatched, she, but twice month. May she grow and prosper as your familiar."

Baron gestured for him to pick her up. Harry didn't think much to this at all. And neither did Hedwig, who was staring at the snake as though she wanted nothing better than to scoop up with her beak and swallow it whole. Harry, wishing more than ever that Baron could have given him something more normal, reached his hand into the crate. He did it very slowly, though he could see his hand shaking.

Inside the crate, it felt a little hotter than it should and Harry supposed that it was for the snake's benefit. Visahari raised her head, more interested and alert now, staring at Harry's hand. The snake uncoiled itself and began to slither towards it. Now, Harry really wanted to pull his hand away but, if he made a sudden movement, it could attack. She started to study Harry's hand, her forked tongue whipping out. Feeling that he should, Harry gulped and said, in audible Parseltongue,

"_Er...hello._"

Visahari gave quite a visible jump and looked up at him, "_Did you ssspeak?_"

"_Uh, yeah._"

"_Well,_" She definitely looked a bit more impressed than when she first saw him and proceeded to start climbing his arm, "_what man-child are you?_" She seemed to want to look at his face all the time, with a sort of wide-eyed curiousity one would expect from a child,

"_Uh, my name'sss Harry._"

"_I am Visahari._" She slithered around his neck and moved her head up to his face to look him right in the eye, "_Tell me, Harry. How did you learn to ssspeak?_"

"_It wasss an accident, actually._" Harry said, feeling a little more relaxed, knowing that Visahari wasn't going to bite him, "_I think it wasss because a perssson who also ssspeaksss Parssseltongue failed to kill me and passssed it on to me._"

Baron watched, smiling, as Harry and Visahari started up a conversation in hissing Parseltongue.

* * *

A/N: Okay, third year is over and we're going into fourth! Next chapter's going to get more interesting, promise!


	26. Teacher

A/N: After an interesting review from Beggs, I thought I'd better anounce that, if anyone has a problem with the Shakespeare talk, don't hesistate to tell me. I can give you translations if you need them.

As promised, Incubus is back! And he's got a plan...read on...

Power of the Moon

Chapter 26: The World Cup

"Just a week to go, Ced!" Amos Diggory said, cheerfully, "We'll be meeting Arthur and his lot at the top of Stoatshead Hill to get the Portkey."

"Great." Cedric had been looking forward to the Quidditch World Cup all summer and was eager for any news about when they were getting there,

"Ludo Bagman's got Arthur's lot tickets in the top box." His father went on, with a little hint of jealousy in his box, "All because he helped out his brother, apparently. Well, at least _we _paid for our tickets fair and square!"

Cedric, however, didn't mind about how the Weasleys had got their tickets and simply gave a non-committal grunt,

"D'you know where we'll be staying?" He asked, keen to keep the subject away from competitiveness,

His father shrugged, "I've booked us a tent in a place quite close to the stadium owned by a Mr Payne. Muggle, of course. So, we'll have to careful not to show any magic. Mind you, I bet everyone else'll be showing off. Always the same. The Weasley lot will be staying at another campsite, quite near us. Their place is owned by another Muggle called Mr Roberts. I just hope Arthur doesn't scare him too much. You know what he's like with Muggles."

Just then, Cedric's mother came in with some tea on a tray, "Talking about the World Cup again, are you?" She sighed, setting down the tray and taking a seat by her son. Her expression became worried as she had a look at her son, "But, are you sure you should take Cedric? He doesn't seem to be getting any better."

"Nonsense!" Amos Diggory shook his head, "He'll be fine for just a night. And, this is something he shouldn't miss! He won't live to see the World Cup played in England again and he'll get to see Krum! Now, you tell me that's not a once-in-a-lifetime experience!"

"I know," She looked worried, wringing her hands, "but he's so pale. Look at him."

"Mum, I'm fine." Cedric sighed, batting her hand away as she made to feel his forehead,

"Yes, he'll be fine, dear." Amos patted her shoulder, "I'll take good care of him. If it makes you feel at ease, I'll take some of the potions the Healer prescribed with me if he comes over faint again."

"I've only fainted once." Cedric frowned, thinking that this was a bit much, "And it was a hot day. There's really no need-"

But there was no persuading his father, "Better safe than sorry, as the Muggles say!"

"Alright, then." Cedric's mother sighed, "But, I don't want to come back with stories of Cedric fainting at the match!"

"Yes, dear." Amos chuckled, "Don't worry, Ced." He added to his son, "I'll take care of you."

"Er, thanks." Cedric's face grew hot. Then, making an excuse about wanting an early night, he slipped out of the room. He was about to ascend the stairs when he heard his name mentioned through the ajar door. After arguing with himself for a while whether he should listen in or not, he sat down on the top step to listen,

"…really shouldn't strain him, Amos. He looks paler than ever."

"Don't be such a spoilsport, darling. This is the Quidditch World Cup we're talking about. He can't miss that!"

"It's not just about the Quidditch World Cup." His mother sighed, patiently, "He's getting weaker and nothing the Healer's giving him is working."

"What? You said-"

"Because he was there. I don't want Cedric to know but the Healer told me that he's suffering from blood loss. It's Blood-Replenishing potion I'm buying for him and it's still not enough. Something's taking his blood quicker than we can put it back. He might have to go to St Mungo's."

"Have you checked his wrists?" His father suddenly became serious, "It could be a vampire creeping up on him in the night."

His mother gave a small cry of horror, "I was afraid you'd say that. I've been thinking it myself. Just, please, Amos. Keep an eye on him and don't let him go off with anyone you don't know."

"I won't." Amos said, patiently, "Don't worry. I know how to take care of vampires."

Cedric had heard enough. He stood up and strode into the bathroom. _No, it couldn't be a vampire._ He thought, _No, there's nothing on my wrists._ He rolled up his sleeves to make sure. _No, nothing._

He turned the taps and began to run a bath. Sighing, he pulled off his shirt. His skin was pale beneath his clothes, a lot paler than normal, he had to admit. Still, he felt that there was no way that a vampire could be stalking him. He locked his window every night.

_Unless,_ he stood naked in front of the bath, thinking about it. _No, if it was a vampire, it would just swoop on me and drain me. Or turn me into one straight away. Besides, vampires hate humans. Teacher is kind and he cares about me._

Despite the heat of the water and the steam in the air, he felt a cold chill up his back, _But I do feel a pain in my wrist whenever he comes._ Feeling more and more doubtful, he washed himself, not really paying attention to the fact that the bath had started to overflow.

Half an hour later (after drying the water up with his wand), Cedric went into his bedroom and drew the curtains. He couldn't help but glance around the dark lawn. The moon was not bright enough to illuminate it. _Could there be someone down there, just waiting for me to look away? _He glanced into his room. _Or could someone be in here and have come in while I was bathing?_

With these uncomfortable thoughts in his head, he lay back on his bed, waiting. After about ten minutes, everything around him became black and a familiar pain in his wrist told him what was happened,

"O, my dearest Cedric. What? I hath giving greeting first and no word canst thou lend? Come, come, where ist thy lov'd tongue?"

"Teacher," Cedric began, hesitantly, "My parents are a bit worried about me. They think I'm suffering from blood loss and Mum thinks a vampire's around."

"What disturbing tidings hast thou!" The voice in the darkness said. After a moment, it came again, "Be of still heart. No shadows lurk in these nooks."

"Yours do." Cedric pointed out, thinking of ways not to voice his doubts directly,

"Alack, 'tis so. But these shadows do thee no harm. Doth the wicked darkling spectre not affright children when no harm canst they lend but to their muddy-mettled souls?"

"Teacher," Cedric swallowed, "why does my wrist hurt every time you come?"

A silence, "Why must you led your ear to these ill words? Dost thou perceive me as a vampire?"

"No," Cedric lied, "I just want to know." _If he gets angry, it means he is a vampire. _But, the voice did not. In fact, he felt hands upon his face, loving and affectionate,

"Good Cedric, cast these unprevailing cares off. No bloody desire resides in my soul and my shadows are for thine eyes' benefit. Let no thing as deformed and unshaped for an amorous looking glass as I. All I have done is in favour of thee."

All suspicion of Teacher being a vampire vanished. _Of course, he isn't. He can't be._ He sat up and let his invisible arms encircle him,

"Methinks you hath a wish to behold my shape and thus thy mind hath birth'd this illusion to deceive me."

"Yeah, I did." Cedric admitted, "Sorry for lying to you."

The arms tightened around him as a small laugh adorned his speech, "O, gentle Cedric, no harm canst thou give. Thy words have no poison and 'tis that cause for me to love thee so."

A warm feeling rose in Cedric's stomach and he smiled. _Of course he'd see through me. I was only teasing. _He felt a rush of affection towards Teacher. Recently, he'd begun to think the nocturnal man more as he would a father than the man downstairs with his wife. He moved his arms around Teacher's waist and held onto him,

"Sweet friend," Teacher murmured into Cedric's hair, "I could call thee a son."

"I'd like that." Cedric nodded,

"O!" Another laugh came into his words, "Dost thou mean to deny thy father? However, my affection, bear in thy sweet heart the orders of our Lord. 'Honour thy father and thy mother'. My name shall by Teacher in thy mouth and leave father off awhile."

"If you say so." Cedric sighed, a little disappointed,

"Mark that I say merely 'awhile'." whispered the invisible man, "Now, what news from thy house?"

"Well, Teacher," Cedric said, smiling, "we've managed to get tickets to see the Quidditch World Cup."

"Oh, most excellent." He could feel the smile, "Where will I find thee?"

"In a Muggle campsite. Owned by someone called Mr Payne. Right next to the stadium, apparently. We're going to be going with the Weasleys by Portkey."

"Didst thou say Weasley?" Teacher asked, suddenly curious,

"Yeah. Mind you," He added, "they're not staying in the same campsite. In a place owned by a Mr Roberts."

"Is that fellow not o'th'gift?"

"He's a Muggle, yeah."

Teacher leaned in closer, like he always did when telling him about something important, "With them goes a villain."

"What?" Cedric looked up, amazed. He couldn't imagine that the Weasleys would bring anyone untrustworthy but Teacher never lied,

"Aye, boy. Thy gracious mind is so gentle, thou knowest naught the terrible plot! Ay, me!" He groaned, "Thou most soft of spirit, thou canst not know. Nay, ask not!"

"What is it?" Cedric asked, desperately, "You can tell me."

"Alack, tempt me not!"

"No, come on! Please!"

Teacher sighed, "Since you would buckle my back to't, I must tell thee…"

* * *

The village of Little Hangleton was quiet by night. The Hanged Man, the village pub, was dark and quiet, having closed about an hour ago and only a few lights were on in the houses. The streetlamps were dotted around the place, giving the only bright light in the place.

But, if the villagers had cared to look up to the old Riddle house, they would have seen a light on in one of the upstairs windows. If someone did notice, they would make up something about the owner of the house finally paying a visit or perhaps a gang of boys from the village who sometimes sneaked into the house.

But someone else saw it and came to quite a different conclusion. Flying over the village on the air currents, his hair rippling in the wind, his eye caught the light. _'Tis he, sure!_ _Now that I have the boy, I will crown the alliance upon this weak Lord._

Lighting on the window ledge, he undid the latch and strode in. He was greeted by a cry of shock and a spell in his direction. With a bored flick of the hand, Incubus sent it careering away from him into the door, which blew apart on contact,

"What unkindly porter is this?" Incubus glared down distastefully at Wormtail, who quivered in fright at the sight of him, "Dost thou speak in spells?"

"Incubus," came the high, cold voice from the chair, "I have heard much about you. I did not expect a personal visit, though."

"Who is thy messenger?" Incubus stepped boldly into the room,

"Wormtail here has told me much about your deeds. You are a most superb creature indeed: you are a vampire and yet perfectly capable of walking in daylight. You are extremely capable with magic and make maiming and murder look like child's play."

Pushing Wormtail aside, he replied silkily, "My hands are blood-steeped. Lives were mere toys in my nursery days. When I was but four and ten years upon this traitorous and brutal earth, before my body was so changed, I didst dispatch a young, cherub-faced girl that had tasted the poison'd honey of life for but five years."

"For what cause?" questioned Voldemort, curious,

"For the crime of her blood." Incubus's face twisted in a scowl, "For that foul Malfoy name stamp'd upon her, I plucked her from her parents and dashed out her brains upon the verge!" He said this with such vehemence that Wormtail actually cowered in a corner, keeping his watery eyes on the long fangs that protruded from his mouth,

"Malfoy?" A trickle of surprise came into Voldemort's voice, "You have killed one of Lucius' ancestry?"

"Aye." Incubus nodded, "Twice seven days later, I didst slay her brother in the prime of his youth. That besmirched boy was their heir and his last great act was to dispatch my beloved sister."

"An act of vengeance." Voldemort paused, "You have first killed at a younger age than I."

"I know of thy tale." Incubus nodded, smiling, "Of how, in the sixteenth year of thy life, Tom, thy father, and his parents bid this world goodnight. By your young hand."

"You know much." A trance of bitterness came into his voice, "It was in this very house that I killed my filthy father's family."

"Rightly so." Incubus added, "But, what of thee now? What doth thou, most skilled of Dark mages, intend upon the boy you and I hath common desire with."

"You wish to kill Harry Potter?" The cold voice said, wonderingly, "I wonder, perhaps you would be a worthy ally."

Incubus's lip arched slightly, "I am a vampire of no common rate! I'll not bow to thee as my Lord."

Wormtail flinched, fully expecting Voldemort to attack. But none came. Instead, the high voice said, "What are your plans for the Potter boy?"

"I have a boy," Incubus said, slowly, "that is not yet bowed to my service but doth love me and I make him all my joy. He shall shed the villain's blood and then, become of mine."

There was another pause. Wormtail kept well in the shadows, not wanting to get in the way of either of them. Voldemort, after a long period of time, spoke again,

"There may be something you can do for me."

"What ist you speak of?"

"I have received intelligence that a faithful servant of mine whom I thought dead lives. He is unable to contact me because of his father, who imprisons him under the Imperious Curse."

"Wilt thou have me murder this foul-weather father?" Incubus licked his strangely pale lips hungrily,

"All in good time, my blood-lusting friend." Voldemort spoke with slight amusement, "I must tell you that this father is Bartemius Crouch. Have you heard of him?"

"I know of such a man." Incubus nodded, "Whose son, alike to my person, hath turned from him to thee?"

"You have good informants." The man in the chair sounded impressed, "I have learned through torturing Bertha Jorkins that he lives at his father's house. I wish you to bring the message to him that his master will be coming for him shortly. After he is at our side again, we will devise other ways for our alliance to prevail."

Incubus gave a short bow, "Then, fare thou well. My wench awaits me." With an elegant swoop, he leapt from the window and glided easily away up into the clouds.

* * *

A week later, Harry, Baron, Zirconia, Hermione and the Weasleys were sitting together at the Quidditch World Cup Stadium. The Malfoys, John and Edward were sitting behind them. Edward had a very enjoyable day at the campsite. He'd strode around the site, wearing his usual bright and gold red robes, pretending to be Lucius. When the Minister had greeted them, it was clear that he had been convinced.

Draco had privately rolled his eyes, _I knew it would cause confusion._ Lucius spent a few minutes convincing Fudge that it hadn't been him while the twins explained to an increasingly amused Mr Weasley what they had seen of Edward.

Edward himself stayed as a spirit and very close to the side of the top box, shouting unheard encouragement to the players. About halfway through the match, Draco's eyes turned to him again,

_Edward? _He leaned over. _What is it? Hey! __**Edward!**_

Edward had got up onto the side of the box. He was now standing on the edge, watching a player in red intently, looking like he might leap off the edge any minute, "C'mon," he murmured, "Just a bit closer..." Baron looked from his father to the player (who turned out to be Krum) and realised,

"Father..." but before he could issue a warning:

WHOOSH!

Krum shot past the box, they blinked and, for a moment, it looked like Edward had disappeared. Then, as Krum swerved, Edward was visible. His red coat was billowing behind him as he held out his arms like a surfer, the golden embroidery glittering more than ever...not sitting but _standing _on the back of Krum's broomstick with superb balance. His cheers and whoops echoed all around the stadium. If anyone else could hear him.

Baron, John and Zirconia leapt to their feet, "FATHER!"

"_VENGA! _GET BACK HERE, EDWARD!"

"Wa-_hey_!" He waved his arms around to them so they could all see him.

Baron covered his face with his hands, shaking his head, exasperated, "Always..." Harry thought he looked very like a teenager embarrassed by a ridiculously acting parent,

"_Hey! Guys!_" He called up as Krum stopped for a look round, "_I can see our tents from here!_ _WHOA!_"

He nearly lost his balance when Krum suddenly put on a burst of speed and shot off again. He whooped happily, punching the air. His cheers were more audible to them than the crowd's noise and twice as wild. It was amazing that his hat stayed on. He whooped and shouted as he jumped from player to player as they passed each other.

Draco's eyes followed the red streak that was Edward with amazement, as he stood tall even faced with the speed of the brooms. _If anyone else did that, they'd be dead!_

Baron shouted from the edge of the box, "FATHER! I BESEECH THEE RETURN!"

Edward wasn't listening to a word. He leapt from broom to broom like they were stepping stones. The people who could see him had nearly forgotten about watching the match. They were amazed that he hadn't made himself solid yet. It was strange to see Edward having his way with them and they were completely oblivious. At one time, he even used the Irish Keeper's broom as a springboard and flew up to the enormous hoops, where he stood overlooking the pitch, grinning.

Baron had given up shouting now and refused to look. Instead, he looked around the box at the other people present. They all looked very official, even though they were cheering wildly. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something. An empty seat in front of them. A house-elf covering her eyes was seated next to it. The seat seemed to be empty but...

Edward scanned the place and spotted a dark shape overhead. At the time, he thought nothing of it. _Probably a flag that came loose. Happens now and then._

With that, he leapt back on the Keeper's broom and, with equal speed, was standing on the back of Krum's broom again. He had his eyes on the box now, his body ready to jump. As Krum passed the box again, he leapt off and landed as neatly as a gymnast in the box. His hair was even more ruffled than usual and his grin was even bigger,

"Whew, that was fun!" he laughed, "I'm telling you, mates; that never gets old!"

Baron took his head out of his hands and glared at his father, "Father, are you mad?_ Have you no wit?_" He growled in the voice of a parent. Edward pouted like a disgruntled teenager,

"Honestly," he said in a loud mutter, "the way you're talking, you'd think brooms were for sitting on!"

* * *

A/N: That last scene gave you a good idea of Edward, didn't it? Loved that last line!


	27. Power of the Rod

A/N: It's been AGES! I'm really, really sorry! Okay, here's the next chapter and there's plenty more Incubus!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 27: Power of the Rod

After the match, the spirits and their hosts returned to the campsite in high spirits. Baron was almost running; he had had quite enough of seeing the players sustain injuries. Especially with the Wronski Feint, "Oh, horrors!" he cried, when John had explained what it was, since he was well revised in Quidditch terms.

They walked back down the path with the rest of the fans. There were so many people and most of them were celebrating so no one noticed someone perched on a branch of a tree like a great bird of prey. Indeed, that is what it was for a brief period. In a second, it was a tall man, perched upon the branch with superb balance. He spotted the blond boy he had been watching and glared. He looked over his shoulder, "Onyx!" he called, but in a whisper, "Where art thou?"

"I'm right here." said the darkness. Only, the darkness wasn't the only thing there. The lantern light stretching weakly into the dark revealed the outline of another figure, "Why?" she said, "What have you found out with your spying on the World Cup?"

Incubus had found a lot but he would only say what was important at the time, "Call for Nekros, thou shalt not see him. Call for John, before thine eyes, he appears. Our most _gracious_ leader," He said this with as much sarcasm as possible, "hath been turn'd."

"_Why_?" He didn't need to see her to tell that she was furious and scandalised, "That Baron did something to him! I know it! We need to get him back!"

He turned to her, eyebrow arched, giving her a glare that said 'that was the wrong thing to say', "Thou wilt have him? Wilt thou be his spaniel? I give thee leave of me," he didn't sound like he meant it, though. He said the next statement with deadly venom, "if your words are only veils..."

"No!...No, Julian!" she took a step back in fright. She really hadn't meant that! Incubus smiled, amused at her alarm, "I...I only meant that we...we could use him!" she sounded like she had only just come up with it, "Yes...we could...absorb his powers...and make us both more powerful..." Incubus held up a hand to stop her,

"Onyx, cease thy ravings!" Onyx instantly stopped, "I will to the boy."

"The boy? He is here?"

"Yea," he stretched himself out on the branch, relaxed despite the fact that he should be cautious since Ministry Security wizards were among the crowd, "I will hence from thee a while and bring back my prize." He watched the Ministry wizards trying to get the Irish to stop celebrating so loudly. This was pointless since this only resulted in loud drunken roars and more singing and cheering. Incubus shook his head. _Those Security wizards! They look so hard for me and yet I get so close to them and not get so much as noticed._

He perched himself on the branch again and spread out his arms. Or rather, wings since he had changed into the great, one-eyed bird that he had been during the World Cup. The bird's body was that of a swan's but its size was far too big to be ordinary. It was pitch black with a red crest upon its head and the left side of its face eyeless and white, like his half-mask. Its tail was made of three black, peacock-like feathers. The bird seemed to have a strange sort of beauty despite being so frightening.

Taking off, it swooped as elegantly and silently as an owl. Once so high that he was confident that no one would see him, Incubus transformed. Being a vampire, he could ride the air currents and fly without wings. Incubus stood out as a white speck in the sky but no one bothered to look up. _Fools of men._ He did not follow the happily-ignorant party where his once master strolled laughing with the boy he'd tortured so. _O, strange occurrences. Canst the hearts of men be so changed? Wouldst my heart, were I mortal?_

He soared above the trees, away from the Roberts' campsite and towards the Payne's. Finding the tent, he lighted on a branch and transformed back into the great bird to watch as another stream of people came from the stadium past him. Scanning the crowd, his hawk-like eyes had no trouble picking out the figure he needed. _There..._

He took off again and glided as a bird above Cedric Diggory's head. He was with his father and Incubus knew that he would have to deal with him before he could properly take Cedric. Arguing about cobbing, they entered their tent. Incubus lurked around the entrance, transforming and concealed by a spell. He peaked in and saw the two of them sitting around the table, talking about the match they'd just seen.

_Cedric, thou mistook. Eternity ist not thy father. Correct must thou be or else be unreach'd._

Incubus waited, patiently, his eye constantly on Cedric, flicking between his face and his wrist. As the campsite grew more crowded, he had to slip into the tent to avoid bumping into someone. He felt the hunger for blood ache in his stomach but he had to be patient. Being so exhausted and so absorbed in conversation, the pair didn't notice the tent flap open and close. Incubus settled himself on the table between the two of them, looking down upon Cedric, absorbing every shadow and hair of him with his eyes,

"Well, Ced." Amos Diggory finally stood up, "Time for bed, I think! I am glad I'm not on duty."

"'Night, Dad." Incubus scowled a little at Cedric's last word and watched the father go into his room. His presence enraged him. _Churl, thou art. I must be rid of thee._ He considered the possibilities, crossing his legs on the table and scratching his chin. _To murder him? Nay, I will have blood but not at this. Nay, 'tis too rash and grievous a path to pursue. To let him sleep? Yea, but sleep, perchance to wake at peril and peruse me in my deeds? Nay, 'tis too much o'th'knife edge. But, to let him sleep and ne'er be waked till break of day? Yea, 'tis practical deed._

Slipping silently off the table, he glided across the canvas floor, making no noise as he pushed back the curtain of tent material and into Diggory's room. The bearded man lay asleep. It was dark but Incubus' senses were far too used to this to hinder him. Creeping besides the bed, he pulled out a length of black cloth, that seemed darker than the shadows around him. In a swift, fluid motion, it covered the man's eyes completely. Amos Diggory lay unnaturally still and his quiet snoring ceased. Crouching down by his ear, Incubus whispered,

"_Let my magic sit heavy upon thy soul like lead in thy bosom. Wake not till thou art released._"

Then, leaving the bewitched man, he crossed to Cedric's room and smiled when he caught sight of the boy, "_Oh, all powers and all fortune, abide to me._" Creeping over to the bed, he produced another cloth but tied it with more care around Cedric's head. Like his father, he became still but not for long. Incubus reached out an arm and pulled it back. As though an invisible string was attached to it from the black hand, Cedric's chest rose off the bed until he was upright.

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders to keep him up, he did the same with his knees until he had Cedric cradled carefully in his arms. He slinked away from the tent and into the gathering darkness, taking Cedric with him.

A while later, Onyx found her master sitting cross-legged on the ground with a figure slumped over his legs. She recognised the boy as Cedric and Incubus was sucking blood from his wrist. The boy was white, too white, "Careful, Cassius. You're going to suck him dry at this rate. Unless, that's what you want to do."

"Think not on such a thought." Incubus shook his head, "The boy is dear to me."

"How?" Onyx asked, leaning against a tree and looking curious, "He's no relation, I'll swear."

"That, he will." Incubus said, simply, a drop of blood falling from his fangs onto Cedric's face, "I am satisfied with thy company, Onyx, but thou art my lesser. I do yearn for an heir. Thou knowest of my condition. I have not the pleasure of human intimacy and must use the fang of my mouth to make me a son."

"And, you've chosen him?" Onyx raised an eyebrow, "I know of him. He is a mere Hufflepuff. He will never give his neck to you."

"Why this scorn for thine own house, Onyx?" Her lip curled at his words, "Hufflepuff, with its name of loyalty and pale bravery, hast Phobos' heavenly light and Hades' darkling shadow. As have all clans."

Cedric looked like there was no blood left in him but Incubus kept on sucking from his neck for a few more moments.

* * *

"Harry! HARRY!!"

Harry scowled. _Will Baron __**ever**__ let me sleep? "What_ is it now, Baron? And this'd had better be important!"

"I hath ill feeling o'th'night. Something wicked, this way, comes"  
"What d'you mean, something wicked?" Harry was starting to get the feeling that Baron was getting paranoid,

But what he meant, Harry didn't know. For at that moment, Edward came into the room. He was clutching his top hat as though he had just been running. He put down his hat and cane and pulled himself up onto Harry's bunk,

"Lads, something is going on here and I mean something. About two hours ago, Incubus came here. In his Animagus form so no one recognised him. Y'know that big black bird on the white feathers on the side of his face. Anyway, he was flying towards that other Muggle campsite. The one that belongs to Mr Payne. The campsite that Cedric and his dad went to?"

"Yea, I had suspicion of his presence." Baron thought for a moment, "Didst thou catch Onyx in thy sights?"

"I don't know about that," Edward shrugged, "but what I do know is that, when I had a peep into Cedric's tent, his father had a Darkling Veil on him and Ced was gone."

"Gone?" Harry stared, astonished, "You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not." Edward shook his head, "He'd just vanished but, judging by the veil, Incubus had probably sneaked in when they were asleep. There wasn't any sign of a struggle. Well, John followed Incubus and he told me that he was hanging around the cottage where those Muggles who own the campsite live. We both agree that he might be planning to do something to them. Just a minute ago, I just went out to get some fresh air and I saw a load of cloaked, masked people come out of their tents and go straight to the Muggle house. I could definitely see Incubus up there too. Those people weren't even awake, I think. Incubus must have used the Moon Rod to bewitch them. Then, I came here."

Baron groaned and closed his eyes as though in pain, "'Tis Incubus, sure. Didst thou behold the boy?"

"No, I didn't." Edward shook his head and then, a wild grin appeared on his face, "But, we're gonna find out! John's gone to wake up Ginny so we'll all go and do some investigating into this." Edward made to go down the ladder onto the floor but slipped on the way down and fell very heavily on his back, "Ouch!" Ron snorted and rolled over but, fortunately, didn't wake up. Edward rubbed the back on his neck, grinning awkwardly, "Sorry. We Cinclions are known for being a tad clumsy with certain things. John's got a habit of tripping over dips in the path; if Gabriel gets a shock on the stairs, he more often than not falls down them; as for me, I'm really bad with ladders. Trust you to get the top bunk, Harry."

Harry put on his clothes over his pajamas and Baron gave him his glasses. They went down the ladder, Baron first as though to show his father how it should be done. Harry laced up his shoes and they all left the tent. John, Draco, Ginny and Zirconia were outside. The campsite was quiet but it was the sort of quiet that told them that nothing good was happening. Indeed, there was nothing good happening.

Up ahead was a mass of cloaked and hooded people and high above them were four figures. Baron's eyes widened slightly and he pushed his glasses up his noses. Calls and laughing could be heard in the distance but there was no sign of Incubus,

"Let's go!" Edward's grin had vanished and was now looking rather serious. They moved off at a run, Edward in the lead. More people were waking up now and the crowd were helping this. Jets of light from their wands sent tents bursting into flame and people began to scream and run blindly into the forest.

Edward scowled and held out an arm to stop them, "Oy, those are the Roberts family up there! We'd better split up! Draco, John, Zirconia; you come with me to try and stop anyone getting hurt."

"I will hence to the villain!" Baron beckoned Harry and Ginny into the forest with him while the others ran headlong to the crowd of people advancing upon them.

People were running here and there trying to get away from the oncoming attackers. Harry wondered if the Weasleys and Hermione were awake. They would be worrying about where they were but this wasn't the time to leave his thoughts in the campsite. Baron led them deeper and deeper into the forest, pausing every now and again to look around and listen carefully. Harry thought he knew where he was going but he didn't know. Ginny looked clueless too. They followed Baron until he held out an arm to stop them. Turning his head up, he scanned the sky. A rustling of wings overhead made them jump. They all slowly looked up and...

"Oh, Hedwig!" Harry groaned. Hedwig was flying overhead like a ghost. She flew down through the trees onto her master's shoulder but not before giving Baron a reproachful look. Or, at least, in Baron's direction. _Could Hedwig see Baron?_ "What are you doing here? I left you at the Burrow." He whispered to the owl, "Have you seen something?"

Baron lowered his head to her level and said, politely "Hast thou seen a flame-haired vampire and his captive boy, lady?" She hooted in reply and took off and flew in the direction of the stadium,

"Your owl's very clever, Harry." muttered Ginny. Hedwig glided above the trees. The screams became gradually fainter and the crowd of people around them thinned until they were running alone. Harry began to wonder how Baron could talk to her even if he was a spirit but he didn't have time to ask. They were drawing nearer and nearer to the stadium until finally the enormous building loomed into view. Hedwig did not join them in breaking down the door.

She remained on the branch, glaring at Harry in a rather Hermione-ish way. Harry felt uncomfortable again: what would Hermione and the others say when they'd found him after the confusion was over? What would _he _say to them to explain his absence when they'd come to wake him up?

All worries, however, were pushed to the back of his mind when Baron had made the doors to the stadium explode and they were striding through the corridors. Having gone straight upstairs to the top box, Harry hadn't been down here before. It was a little reminiscent of the Hogwarts Quidditch Stadium where the players strode along the corridors that led to the pitch.

When they strode through the empty changing rooms and reached the door that must lead to the stadium, Baron held them back, "We must peruse." By that, Harry knew he meant for them to check the Moon Medallion. Pulling it off, Harry laid it flat on a set of discarded Quidditch robes (with the name Krum on the back) and whispered, "Show me Cassius Incubus." A picture rippled into view of the deserted Quidditch pitch. Incubus was lounging lazily on a golden, satin-cushioned chaise-lounge and being fed grapes by a giggling Onyx. Holding a feathered fan on a golden pole and standing beside him was unmistakably Cedric.

But he didn't look like Cedric at all. He was wearing rather regal looking robes, his hair was smoothed back and had an expression on his face that suggested he thought himself a prince. It was an expression Harry didn't like in the slightest and, knowing Cedric to be a fair-minded, pleasant person, it didn't suit him at all. What became him even less was his question of,

"When will we go to fight the Baron?"

Incubus gave a tinkling laugh as though Cedric had made an amusing joke at a cocktail party, "The Lord love thee, Cedric! Calm your burning spirit. They will to us!"

Ginny stared, "How on earth did he set all _that _up?"

"Incubus, magpie-eyed and plunder's-hand, hast such love for palace attires!" Baron sighed, a slight hint of disapproval in his voice that was reminiscent of Percy, "Such displeasing sight!"

Harry stood up, pulling the shrunken Moon Medallion back around his neck, "Shall we go and take him on now?"

Baron too rose, "Shall we? Yea, we must! Draw thy wands. We will to this _gracious Lord._" His voice dripped with sarcasm at the last words that Harry had never heard before. Leading the way, Baron opened the doors with a push and they strode out onto the green Quidditch pitch. Incubus, Onyx and Cedric were there, exactly as depicted in the Moon Medallion. Incubus swallowed his grape and spread his black arms out wide as if welcoming them,

"My most excellent foes, welcome!" There was a mocking edge to his voice, along with a playful sort of smirk,

"Villain, separate from the adornments!" Baron retorted, his head held a little high, "I'll not call thee Lord."

"Yet, Lord, I am!" Incubus lazily stood up from the couch and strode forward at an easy, laid-back pace, "I have succeeded thy wicked brother."

"_Call him not wicked!_" Baron bit back, stung,

Incubus' small laugh made his fangs glitter in the little but bright light given by the torches on either side of the couch, "Do I not appear lordly? O, thou starv'd, shorn Baron in peasant's weeds, look upon I! Look how well these garments sit upon me!" He held his arms, proudly showing them his spotless white robe and suit, his swishing violet cloak and glossy red hair.

Onyx giggled, even though her clothes were as untidy as ever, and Incubus continued, "Hast thou no pride in thy ancestry? Behold my person and think upon thy departed wealth! Where art thy jewels now, Baron?" He approached him and looked him up and down critically, "Where ist thy father's gold? I see in not in your garments! Nor in thy disciples!" Ginny's hands curled into fists as he gave another tinkling laugh,

"Treasures most deep and ador'd." Baron said, calmly, after a long silence through Incubus' taunts, "are enclosed in my breast."

"O, I forget! Thou canst not see as I the vain treasures of life! Your dear jewels are in thy protected love, which you shower upon thy loved! Life and love, I have them both. Come, beloved Cedric." Cedric came forward, "Dost he not strike thine eyes to adoration? Will he not make my heir?"

"What hast thou done?" Baron asked, a slight trace of a frown in his face, "You have cast thy love upon a innocent's eye!"

Cedric smirked, a horrible, wicked smirk that contorted his face in a terrible way, "And, it has been returned, Baron!" He retorted,

"See you what wonders this boy hath, Baron?" Incubus smiled and held Cedric close to his side, "A worthier man I do not find among those that march tonight!"

"Hast thou cast thine curse upon the marchers?" Baron gestured back at the campsite, "Wilt thou cause death this foul night?"

"I rule them not." Incubus answered, striding back away from Baron, "Their spirits, I have inebriated. I know not what they perform."

"Enough of thy parley." Baron's winged staff came out of nowhere and pointed at Incubus, "Come, play a bout!"

A smirk made Incubus's fangs glitter. He clicked his fingers on both hands and Onyx and Cedric stepped forward. Cedric drew his wand and Onyx produced a long silver knife, "Wilt thou consent to my disciples involve in the fray?"

Baron glanced from Harry to Ginny, who both nodded. They were ready, "I shall."

There was a moment of utter silence, when both sides prepared themselves to duel, getting into the right battle stance. Then, in a flurry of movement, they clashed together. Harry could see Onyx race at Ginny out of the corner of his eye but he didn't have any attention to spare. Cedric was upon him.

The evil smirk was still on his face as they dueled. It was clear that Incubus had taught him a couple of powerful curses, because about a fifth Quidditch pitch was reduced to upturned earth in a matter of minutes. Harry could only dodge and send all the defensive spells he knew. It took him a few minutes to realise how much of a superior duelist Cedric was and how little he knew. Sweat trickled down his forehead, while his opponent stood solid and unbeatable. Harry sent a Disarming Charm, Cedric blocked it with ease, Harry dodged his next curse and then…

Out of nowhere, Incubus appeared to his right, right next to his outstretched wand hand. He was going to stop Harry attacking. Before Harry could pull his hand out of reach, he was upon him. Incubus' black hand enclosed around his wrist, just as Harry felt something move beneath his sleeve.

The hand had clasped where his sleeve ended and, as quick as a flash, the small Visahari shot from it and sank her miniscule fangs into Incubus' skin. There was a split second when Harry and Incubus stared at the small snake.

Then, Incubus leapt back in shock. Staring at the small, bleeding bite-marks, he backed three foot away from Harry and all commotion stopped. Onyx looked round from a prone Ginny, Baron stopped in his tracks on his way to help Harry and Cedric froze. It was clear that Visahari was poisonous for Incubus gasped and his shaking knees gave way and he collapsed face down on the lawns. Cedric too fell and Onyx raced to her master,

"Cassius! _Cassius!_"

"_Help me hence…_" Incubus's voice was rasping, "_…the serpent…I am poisoned…_"

After a deadly glare at Harry, Onyx, with amazing strength, hauled her master onto her back and vanished. Baron, seeing that Harry was no longer in danger, looked to Ginny, who was feebly stirring. Harry stared blankly at Visahari, who was looking up at him quizzically,

"_I didn__'__t know you were there._" Harry whispered in Parseltongue,

"_I decided to sssleep on your arm that night._" She answered, glaring up at him with her amber eyes, "_And, it__'__sss a good thing I did!_ _That man would have killed you!_"

"_Are you really poisssonousss?_" Harry asked her, suddenly wondering how long Incubus would be out of action for,

"_Very._" There was a slight hint of vicious pride in her voice, "_Incubusss will not be in any great pain but he will be sssick for monthsss. I think I let loossse a little more venom than I thought I did. I am only learning now how to control it. I have been dissscovering the powersss of my venom. I can kill a Hippogriff with one bite and, alssso, if you become envenomed, my poissson will serve an antidote._"

Harry was just about to ask how she'd learned all this but then, Cedric gave a moan from the lawn. Visahari retreated up Harry's sleeve once more and he joined Baron and Ginny, who were striding towards him. Cedric's grey eyes opened and soon picked them out,

"Oh!" He breathed a sigh of relief, "Harry, it's you. Thought you were Incubus for a second."

"Thou knowest of the villain?" Baron asked, curious,

"Yeah." Cedric nodded, seeing where the new question had come from, "He's been controlling my mind for ages. I don't remember most of it."

"But, you're okay now?" Ginny asked, as he got shakily to his feet,

"Yeah, I'm fine." Cedric was just taking in the clothes he was wearing, "What the hell…?"

Together, they supported Cedric, who was still a little shaky, back to the quietening campsite.

* * *

A/N: Maybe I should have named this chapter 'Incubus really takes the piss' or 'Visahari really kicks ass'! So, what d'you think?


	28. Occlumency

A/N: OMG! So much procrastination! I would have put this up on Saturday but my Internet went funny and I was round at a birthday party yesterday and today so...the result is here. Happy reading!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 28: Occlumency

They returned to the campsite to find it in a terrible state. Tents were trampled and unfortunate stragglers lay moaning and writhing on the ground. There was no sign of the Death-Eaters. However, the sky was illuminated with a bright white light. Looking up, they saw what looked like an enormous white mask with one eye and mismatched wings, that were actually moving up and down very slowly. The wing to their left (the side with the eye) looked feathery while the other was bat-like and bony. In the centre, there was a long letter I,

"That's Incubus' symbol." Cedric explained, "He made me send that up just before you got here. Didn't you notice?"

"No, not really." Harry shook his head, not quite knowing why he hadn't seen it before. He had been looking up for Hedwig after all. While they were gazing up at the mask in the sky, Cedric had begun to take off the rich dress robes Incubus had given him. His pajamas were underneath but he kept the shoes on. Leaving the clothes in a disorderly heap, he began to make his way away from them,

"May I escort thee?" Baron asked, politely, "The villain may yet show."

"Alright." Cedric nodded and began to lead Baron through the forest and away from them. Ginny, Edward, Draco, John and Zirconia hailed them just as Baron got out of sight. They bore the signs of having fought the Death-Eaters; Draco even had his arm in a makeshift sling made out of a torn-off piece of John's cloak,

"How did it go?" Ginny asked,

"Not too bad." Edward shrugged, as he investigated Draco's arm, "Draco got a bit of a knock from one of the biggest but I think it's just a bone-break. No problem." As if to show them, he placed his palm to Draco's wrist for a second and pulled off the sling with a flourish. The arm was completely healed, for Draco was able to bend and move it with ease,

"Thanks, Edward."

"No problemo, Dray." Then, he looked around, "Where's Gabe?"

"He's gone to get Cedric back to the tent." Ginny explained, "Cedric was being controlled by Incubus."

"Blimey." Edward put a hand to his forehead, "He's started that again, has he?" When most of the group looked puzzled, he explained, "Well, he's a vampire and they're pack creatures. They live in big family groups and they don't like being on their own. It's then when they start turning evil. The bigger the pack, the better they are. So, when Incubus left the Moon Fangs, he started to get lonely after a bit. He started to want some vampire companionship so he must have decided that the only way to go about was not to go back the Moon Fangs but make a new pack of his own.

"So, he went around the country, finding people that might be suitable for a pack. Young males every time. He wanted someone he could call his son. Vampires can't breed like we do so they turn humans into vampires to make them their family."

Ginny felt a little pang of sympathy for Incubus, forgetting that he was the enemy,

"He never really got very far." Edward went on, "They normally refused him or we managed to get in the way if they were being controlled. Y'see, he didn't go for bad wizards. He always went for the really good ones, I don't know why, but he was always really upset when he lost them."

"Did he ever succeed in 'getting a son'?" Draco wondered, aloud,

"Yeah, he did once." Edward nodded, "I don't know what his name was before he was turned into a vampire but Incubus named him Varrius. He was a real troublemaker for us. An assassin for the Dark Side and a really infamous vampire."

Harry vaguely remembered the name on a Chocolate Frog Card with the same sort of description,

"What happened to him?" Ginny asked, now more interested in Edward's story than wanting to go back to her family,

"Died in the end." Edward told her, with no trace of indifference in his voice, "Got captured and put to death by Ministry slayers. Incubus was absolutely distraught! He went to the Ministry on the day he found out about it and wiped out the whole of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures! I think he managed to get Varrius' ashes too 'cos they'd gone missing."

"Blimey." Harry's eyes had widened in shock that Incubus could ever have such a strong attachment to someone.

At that moment, Baron came back, silent and only announced by Zirconia asking him, "Any trouble, Gabriel?"

"Nay, Zirconia. The fiend did not appear in our sights."

* * *

Three weeks later, they were on the Hogwarts Express. After the lunch trolley had passed, Baron spoke up, "Friends all, hear me." Everyone went silent, Harry, Draco and Ginny pulling out from their conversation about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament to listen. Baron had the same influence as Dumbledore for receiving silence when asked, "'Tis folly to think that the foe will lie for long. Connection, we have, through the Items. Thy minds are opened to him. Knowest thou of Occlu's mind magic?"

"Occlumency, yeah." Draco nodded, "Isn't that how you protect your mind against outside intrusion?"

"Thou art wise, Draco." Baron nodded and Draco smiled happily at this praise, "I wish to make thee learn'd in this art. Mark, 'twill not be a painless pursuit. Severus hath knowledge of this. Thy spirit shall be thy mentor. I'll to Harry."

"How do you read someone's mind?" Harry asked, curious,

"Thy mind ne'er can be read as thy books of change and unctions." Baron explained, calmly, "'Tis a book that may only be perus'd by at the dawning page and each page must have eyes upon't before the next. The whole of thy days upon this stain'd earth are laid naked to a sword if not a shield guards it. That sword presenteth Legil's Art. What dost thou know of't?"

"Legilimency, you mean?" Harry wondered how on earth Draco could translate Baron's old-fashioned names,

"Aye." Baron nodded, "The blade o'th'art hath powers to distort thy thoughts, reveal thy secrets and no flourishing falsehoods canst thou uttereth. If you have a shield of Occlu, then falsehoods are thine to voice in safety."

"Can anyone we know do Legil-thing and Occlumency?" Ginny asked,

"Yea, Ginny." Baron nodded, "Thine master, Dumbledore, and our companion, Severus, for two. The villain, Incubus, hast it and I know not of Voldemort but 'tis most certain that he possesseth the skill. 'Tis most taxing and difficult task and 'tis used by thine enemy and thine friend to reveal trickery Will thou take to't? Wilt thou bear the knowledge of this precious art upon thee as I instruct?"

"Definitely." Draco nodded, without so much as a hesitation,

"Er…okay." Ginny said, a little more doubtfully,

"When do want us to learn?" Harry asked,

"Once a seven days, I should think." Baron answered, after considering, "Ist to thy liking? Thou knowest that the Tournament will allow thy games not."

"Yeah, alright." Harry nodded, thinking that Baron was rather pleased about there being no Quidditch. Zirconia, however, was frowning, glaring at Baron,

"Gabriel, _mi cariño,_ you're not thinking of persuading Harry to enter? I will not allow it, _no_! I was worried so much about you when you were Hogwarts Champion!"

"You were in the Triwizard Tournament, Baron?" Ginny looked around, interested,

"Yea." Baron smiled, placidly, "'Twas a wondrous year."

"Not for me or John!" Zirconia snapped, scowling now. Then, exasperated by Baron's calm expression, she threw her hands in the air, "_Dios mia, _you nearly died!"

"Think not on it, rose of Spain." Baron patted her shoulder, "If thy heart moves to avoid't, I shall ne'er disobey."  
"You'd better not!" Zirconia nodded, fiercely. John giggled awkwardly before adding,

"But, Gabe, Voldemort's dead. Surely, we shouldn't worry about him now?"

Baron's face darkened, "Thou knowest of the return of Incubus. The villain will return, sure."

Harry found it very easy to believe Baron, as did Draco,

"Yeah. One thing's for sure, if I was him, I'd _never_ stay down if I was beaten by a baby! _Way_ too embarrassing!"

* * *

All the way through Dumbledore's speech about the Triwizard Tournament, Baron kept his eyes on Mad-Eye Moody and Cedric. When asked why afterwards, he only gave an evasive answer. The next day, Baron left Harry for the morning to find a suitable place for Occlumency lessons. He met Harry at lunch to tell him that they were to have their first lesson at eight o'clock that night.

When five to eight came, Baron led Harry away from the common room and out into the corridor. They didn't have to go far and they'd only gone down a few corridors before they halted, "Here the place." and he pointed to a blank stretch of wall with a tapestry depicting several trolls in tutus bludgeoning a wizard to death,

"Er…" Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not, "...right here in the corridor?"

"Nay, nay!" Baron waved a hand, impatiently, "Here the place, that is conceal'd to thine eyes! 'Tis the Room of Requirements in our standing place!"

"But, how are we supposed to get to it?" Harry asked, still bewildered, "Go through the wall?"

"A place, entered with wishes, supplies thee with thy wishes. If you have wish of a struck skull, thou hast it!" Harry had the strong feeling that Baron was making fun of him, "Now, cease this talk. Strong magic hath this. See how no opening betrayeth this space. Wand nor hand may make a set door in this stone. The most resilient force is thine own wits and 'twill prove so. Turn your unknowing mind to thy need and thrice wilt thou walk with me. Clutch at't with iron fist of thought. Come, we shall walk."

Harry felt a bit stupid pacing up and down the corridor, thinking about how much he needed a place to study Occlumency. When he turned on his heel for the fourth time, Baron held out a hand to stop him, "Behold, boy. The Room of Requirement, as thou requested."

To Harry's great amazement, a small door had appeared in the wall, perfectly formed and looking perfectly able to open. Baron reached out a hand and turned the smooth silver handle, "This cell is our study. Pray you look in." The room was in almost total darkness. It looked rather sinister to Harry, with sleek drapes barely visible and no window. The floor was bare carpet apart from two cushions in the middle, split by a small table covered by a dark silk cloth. A miniature mermaid sat on it, carved in silver and holding the lone lit candle aloft in both hands. She was free of wax and the candle looked like it had never been lit. Harry had the impression of a dark room hidden away in the cellar of a gothic castle. Perhaps bats were lurking in the shadows, behind those drapes. As soon as Baron closed the door, all sound from outside ceased abruptly. They were plunged into total silence and dim candlelight.

Baron smiled at the place, "This is a most marvelous secret place for our practice. My own creation hangs 'pon these walls."

"Love what you've done with the place." Harry nodded, sarcastically. Elegantly ignoring the comment, Baron sat down on one side of the table and gestured Harry to sit down opposite. With a distinct feeling of forbidding, Harry lowered himself onto the cushion, kneeling before Baron,

"Within these confining walls, I imparteth upon thee my knowledge of Occlu's art. Darkness and silence are our only companions i'th'place. And, 'tis within the darkness and silence of sleep, with those promises of safety they idly cling, that you are most exposed to Legil's art. I will enter thy mind softly and become more rude and swift as you better yourself. Come, place thy forehead to mine."

Feeling more and more uneasy, Harry did as he was told. His lips were rather close to the flame and Harry saw something else on the table. A long silver dagger with its blade pointing right at Baron,

"Think not on't, Harry." Baron pushed the knife away from the candle, "Veil thy sight."

Harry closed his eyes and he felt Baron's hands on his temples. They did not go through him and were not cold like an ordinary ghost's fingers. In fact, Harry might not have even known that he was a ghost if it hadn't been for him chancing a look at Baron and seeing that he was still in spirit form,

"Strike, I will not, 'till thy wits could apply to't. We are remote as ravens within these veil'd and nighted walls. So, henceforth surcease thy discourse. The entry releases. Go through't. Thou hast ."

Harry concentrated hard on trying to see into Baron's head. It took a lot of work to try and ignore the heat next to his mouth. The silence in the room made it considerably easier to concentrate. In the end, after what felt like hours, a picture formed in his head. Blurred and distorted but visible. It looked like a Quidditch pitch with red specks flying about in midair.

Baron's encouraging voice came from somewhere in his head, "What dost thou behold?"

"A Quidditch pitch…" Harry felt strangely distant from his own mouth, almost as though it wasn't him who was speaking, "…I think a game's on…Gryffindor versus…Slytherin…I can see the green players. Hang on…it's becoming a bit clearer…"

It did, indeed. Harry could see, as clearly as a piece of film, a Hogwarts Quidditch match being played during heavy rain. Then, finding he could turn his view, he saw that he was not on a broom but he was not even on the pitch. It was from a distant perspective he watched. He recognised it as a part of the sloping lawns he'd never been before where the grass grew long and gave an excellent view of the pitch over the stands.

Two people were sitting there under a sort of tent which protected them from the rain. One was recognizably Baron, with dark hair. The other was a little Slytherin boy with long dark red hair, a rather pretty face and a rather timid air about him. He looked about the same age as Baron but was smaller by one or two inches. Baron's eyes were covered by a large telescope with which he was following the progress of the game,

"Come, John! Yare! O, yare!" He was muttering. One of the players in red dodged the keeper and lobbed the Quaffle straight into the centre hoop. The telescope fell to the ground as Baron cheered and the announcer declared the score to be sixty points to Gryffindor and twenty to Slytherin. The boy sitting with him looked round,

"I do not coerce thy attending. Thou lovest thy brother so and should, as is thy humblest and most notable task, be amid fellows."

Baron turned to the boy, who suddenly looked like he wished he'd stayed silent, "Though my heart urges obedience, ne'er had I seen so piteous a vision as thy seclusion."

The boy looked away, "I thank thee, gentle soul. Pray you, leave me, however. I, that have been refus'd familiarity and merriment by a rash folly, have no desire of the poison cup of joy. I am as loathsome as an insect, for good folk flee when I come. Let thy delight be not marred by my presence."

"I am deaf," Baron said, stubbornly, "to thy talk. Bitterness makes thy tongue bleak and 'tis not thy tongue I accompany. Flee, I will not." With that, he returned to his telescope and did show any signs of wanting to leave,

"Go, boy. Thou hast seen thy fill." With that, they were back in the Room of Requirement and Baron was pulling his head away from Harry's. Sitting back, Harry felt strange in his own body after being inside Baron's head,

"What was that, Baron?" he asked, curiously, "Who was with you there?"

"Canst thou not think of one so lonesome in my time?" Baron answered, expectantly. After a bit of thought, Harry realised,

"Not Incubus?"

"Aye, 'twas he. Oft, against his will, I accompanied him."

Before he had time to ask more about it, Baron continued, "Yet, cast thy inquiring thoughts from't. Thou canst see with thy mind but 'twas too long. Another, I shall unveil, and be swift to perceive. Swift must be thine eye, to make thee masterful of Occlu's art."

And, so it went on. Harry saw Baron's Sorting, him being pursued with John by a maddened-looking teacher who'd caught him sneaking into the Prefects' Bathroom and sneaking down the Hogsmeade secret passage with Zirconia. Each time he saw one of Baron's memories, the vision came faster and more clearly than the last. After scene upon scene of Baron's childhood, Baron pulled away and sat cross-legged on the cushion,

"A good scholar, thou art, in the skill of securing thy senses to thy milieu. But, mark this. I have allowed you these manifestations by unlatching all doors. Twice three days from now, we shall meet again in this place. There, I will pervade through the doors into thy mind. Attempt to bring thy mind to a state of senselessness to thine perceivers of the world during the hours of light."

Baron extinguished the candle as they left the room. It was only when Ron and Hermione asked him frantic questions of his whereabouts when he got back to the Common Room that Harry realised that they'd spent over three hours in the Room of Requirement.

* * *

A/N: Maybe I should have called this chapter 'Baron really takes the piss'. Thought the gothic scenery of Baron's Room of Requirement suited him.


	29. Incubus' Son

A/N: Not so much of a long wait that time, thank goodness. My exams are getting ever nearer and the pressure's on! Hope it won't get in the way of this story too much but please, bear with me! (glances nervously outside) Oo-er, it's a storm out there...

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 29: Incubus' Son

Baron and Harry had many Occlumency lessons in the Room of Requirement, Baron patiently progressing as Harry got better and better. He stressed that not many Occlumens' would teach Harry this way and the traditional method was breaking into their students mind again and again. Harry was very grateful that Baron didn't attempt this method. Hermione eventually stopped asking where Harry was going for hours on end every week. Ron still asked occasionally but all Harry's evasive answers eventually made him give in.

While studying Occlumency, History of Magic had never been so useful in all Harry's life. The monotonous silence broken only by the droning of Professor Binns was the perfect opportunity to practice focusing his mind power and closing his mind. He didn't want to break into anyone's mind but it still felt good to close his mind and just not feel anything. These periods of Occlumency practice gave Harry the appearance of staring into space, which was only unnoticeable in a lesson so dull as History of Magic.

Draco, Ginny and Luna too were learning Occlumency. They occupied the Room of Requirement on the nights when Harry and Baron were not there. Draco was making even more progress than Harry and Luna excelled them all. She'd taken, after a while, to attacking them with Legilimency so they could try and block her. An activity imitated by Snape, much to Harry's dislike.

She, unlike the others, had no qualms about breaking into other people's minds and was telling them that they were not alone in practicing Occlumency,

"Cedric's getting very good at it."

"_Pero,_ who's teaching him?" asked Zirconia, puzzled,

"I don't know." Luna said, in a slow, thoughtful voice, "But, whoever it is teaches him really well."

* * *

September passed without much incident, apart from the Blast-Ended Skruts (that horrified Baron no end). Incubus and Onyx were nowhere to be seen, which proved that Visahari's venom had worked. Visahari herself was getting bigger and bigger and soon had to coil up Harry's whole arm just to stay unnoticed. Harry felt that it couldn't be much longer before he was unable to carry her around with him.

He'd taken to keeping her on his arm ever since the Incubus incident and this meant that she could sneak bits and pieces off Harry's plate without being noticed. This only happened every few days, as Visahari explained to him, "_Usss sssnakesss don't need conssstant sssussstenance like humansss. We can go through a few daysss without food, depending on how much we decide to eat._" She was soon requesting favourites but Harry still had to be careful. His caution paid off since, apart from one slip-up (in which Visahari had curled back into Harry's robes before Neville could do a double-take), she wasn't seen.

Visahari proved to be rather a strange snake but that didn't stop Harry liking her. At times, she seemed almost human. When it was time to shed her skin, she retreated into her box and gave Harry a hefty rap on the hand when he tried to open it, "_Do you mind_?" She had spat, scandalised, as though he was trying to break into a room where she was changing clothes.

She took an active interest in books too and liked poking her head out of his sleeve to read. How she learned to do so, Harry had no idea, but it meant that he had to act even more secretive to stop her demands becoming loud enough to be heard by others near him. He either had to read alone or hold the book much too close to his face to satisfy her. Ginny swore he saw her slip into Hermione's dormitory one night and peruse over _Hogwarts, a History _that had been lying open on her desk. Soon, she was quoting whole extracts from the books when Harry needed them. Rather like a portable Hermione.

Unfortunately, she was also very adventurous and wanted to explore Hogwarts properly. Harry was very reluctant to allow her to do this; he did not want her found or, worse, killed. Whenever they were in the library, she asked whether she could nip into the Restricted Section to have a look round. In the end, Harry made an excuse about getting a book on the other side of the library to get away from Ron and Hermione and, once out of earshot, held up his arm to talk to her,

"_Look, you can't just go ssslithering around Hogwartsss. If you're ssseen, then Dumbledore'll get the wrong idea and have you killed._"

Visahari glared up at him in an impudent sort of way, "_What do you mean, the wrong idea?_"

"_I mean that Parssseltongue'sss a Dark Art. Sssalazar Ssslytherin was a Parssselmouth and he put a Basssilisssk in the Chamber of Sssecretsss so hisss heirsss could kill all the Muggleborns in Hogwartsss._"

All through this, she looked rather affronted but still insolent, "_You're not a Dark Wizard, Harry. Even if it was a accident that you can talk to me. Besssidesss, just becaussse one bad apple decided to take sssomething too far and he jussst happened to be a Parssselmouth doesssn't mean that all Parssselmouthesss are evil, sssurely._"

Harry shook his head, "_You don't understand. That'sss not how wizardsss think. Parssseltongue'sss passsed on, not learnt. Everyone thought I wasss the Heir of Ssslytherin a couple of yearsss ago and I wasss the one sssetting the Basssilisssk on-_"

Visahari then threw back her head and burst out laughing, "_The Heir of Ssslytherin? You? Harry, you wouldn't even hurt a worm! How they could ever think…Humansss mussst be even more ssstupid than I thought…I ssswear that isss the funniessst thing I ever heard!_"

"_That'sss not the point._" Harry snapped, "_I mean, they all thought I wasss the Heir of Ssslytherin becaussse I wasss a Parssselmouth. They thought I wasss a Dark Wizard._"

At this moment, she stopped laughing and had the appearance of frowning, "_Sssurely, wizardsss are not so foolisssh asss to think that jussst becaussse a perssson is born with a difference and for factorsss beyond your control, it makesss you a Dark Wizard?_"

Harry felt a little uncomfortable. The way Visahari was describing it, it made it sound like a injustice. That the supposedly good house, Gryffindor, held those same sort of views as Slytherins, only turned towards other people,

"_Well?_" She cocked her head to one side, gazing at him with her accusing amber eyes,

"_Yeah,_" Harry said, finally, feeling a flush creep into his face, "_That'sss how we think._"

"_Ridiculousss._" sighed Visahari, "_Humansss are more foolhardy than I thought._" Then, seeing Harry's suddenly downcast expression, she reached up and affectionately stroked Harry's face with her smooth scaled head, "_Don't be ssso assshamed, Harry. Now you know what prejudicesss you hold and realissse they are wrong, you may ssshed them like a ssskin. Then, you can sssee the world with an unclouded eye._"

Baron was silent as he watched the conversation but he was smiling.

"Harry!" The sudden burst of English caught Harry off guard and he only just managed to concealed Visahari behind his back before Hermione whipped round the corner, very impatient, "Don't tell me you've been there for nearly ten minutes! The book we want is on the other of the library!"

* * *

The only light in the room was the dying candle, that oozed droplets of wax and burned the table. The light danced upon an empty wine glass that sat on the bedside table with it,

"Burn thy life to the point, brief candle. Other have sunk before thee, yet wilt thou remain?" His eye turned to the urn beside the wine glass and his bandaged hand moved to stroke it, "Wilt thou have a brother, Varrius?"

Just then, the door opened and two people entered,

"Lo, my light comes! Sit beside me, dear cherubim, and shed thy radiance upon this weak and wan body."

The boy eagerly obeyed, sitting in the usual chair beside the bedside table. The other, a woman, lurked in the shadows and closed the door behind her, her scowl concealed by the mask she wore. The boy asked, immediately,

"How are you, Father?"

"Lord love thee for thy care." A smile revealed the slightly yellowing fangs, "To quaff thy self-love and show me humane concern. To call me Father. I do love thee for it, dear child."

"You shouldn't talk so much, Cassius" The woman folded her arms, glaring at the two of them, "You'll wear yourself out."

"A fair exchange of words is becoming of a father and son, Onyx." Incubus retorted, coldly, "What wouldst thou know of it, thou childless harlot?" Onyx flinched, "I'll entreat my son as much as I will. Therefore, cease thy speech and trouble us not." In a rage, she whirled round and slammed the door behind her. With that, he turned to the boy, "O, gentle boy, I am hearty today. My daily fever passed and I took good blood not two nights ago."

The boy breathed a sigh of relief, "That's good. I was worried when Onyx said that you were too ill for me to see you yesterday."

"Listen not to her fain and hollow words. Her envy of thee is great but 'twill pass, 'twill pass." Incubus' eyes turned again to the urn, "I spake with thy dearly departed brother, Varrius, afore you came. Alack, no answer giveth he."

"You've talked about Varrius a lot. What was he like?"

A smile spread over Incubus' face and his eye closed for a moment, as though he was recalling the sweetest memory of his life, "Ah, he beggars all description. As alike to an archangel as I am to myself. Cherubine in visage and from his rosen eyes shone forth bright jewels. Charm and delight glimmered in every golden lock that flung upon me in a volley. Alack, alack." A shadow passed over his face, "I cannot choose but weep."

A small glittering tear formed in the corner of his eye, "To think those bloody, coarse villains that stain the seeming white throne of wizards didst show thy poor, gorgeous brother no mercy and leave his grieving father no kind flesh to bury. Where be his mirth now, his love, his angelic light now? I do pray that such a loved soul belongs to Heaven." He turned to the boy by his side, "I pray that he will bless us with his loveliness and cherished soul upon thy head."

The boy sitting by him suddenly frowned, "Father, I'm getting worried. These past few days, I've seen Potter's snake roaming around the castle."

Another dark shadow flickered across Incubus' face, "My fit comes again. Not a day passes me when I do not curse that foul serpent that stung at thy Father's life. And, yet, not a night passes me when I am not shaken to the soul by the notion that seeketh me to destroy me."

"That's what I was worried about." The boy nodded, "But, let's not talk about it. You grow weary."

"Nay, faith. 'Tis fresh morning when you are by me." Still, his face was even more grey and the boy was beginning to worry,

"Here, have some of my blood." Willingly, he held out his wrist, unclothing it as he did so. After a short pause, Incubus opened his mouth and sank the fangs into his wrist. He drank long and well and the boy smiled,

"At least, you're drinking well, Father."

When the blood-stained fangs withdrew, Incubus' eye were drooping, "I am much inclined to sleep but, first, I must entreat upon thee a task."

"Yes?" The boy leaned in, all ears,

"Thou knowest of the Tournament? Within seven days, those outsider schools will come. The Tournament will serve us well. The Goblet is the thing, wherein we will catch the villain. Thou art a strong mage. Find you a means to place him within't."

"Yes, Father." The boy nodded, as Incubus' eye closed.

* * *

"How _could_ they let you into this tournament?"

"They said that they would stop lads and lasses under seventeen from entering! Then they go and let Harry in; the hypocrites!"

Harry only half-listened to them. He was feeling extremely miserable. Just the previous night, Ron had accused him of putting his name in the Goblet and had made it clear that he didn't want to be friends with Harry. He cast his mind back to what Ron had also said..._"You're brilliant at lying. Not good enough to fool me, though! That's what you've been doing, hasn't it? Plotting how to fool the Goblet!_"

"Potter! _Potter_!"

Harry jerked out of his miserable torpor and found that everyone in the room was looking at him. Ginny sighed. She knew what Ron could be like, "Don't take what Ron said seriously."

"Aye," said Sabian, wisely, "He's only jealous."

"Jealous?" Harry was really confused now, "Come again?"

"Well, you're the 'Boy-Who-Lived' right?" Sabian perched himself on the edge of Snape's desk, "And you're really famous and getting a lot of attention. Now, Ron's got all those brothers to compete with at home and you're his best friend. He feels shunned whenever people see you. He has put up with it...nae a time when he's mentioned it before, am I right? Well, I suppose, like with Julian Weasley, it was one time too many and he just snapped. He thinks you're enjoying this attention. Oh, and he's a little worried that you're drifting away from him since you spend a lot of time on your own."

Harry scowled bitterly, feeling even more betrayed than before, "Maybe Ron will think I'm not an attention-seeking prat when I get my neck broken..."

"I shall endure no more of't. Thou knowest no sense!" Baron flared up,

"Harry, that's not funny at all!" Ginny snapped before Baron continued,

"Durst thou taunt the devil even if he stares thee in the face?" Baron was still angry, talking a sharp, teacher-ish voice, "I see thy demons i'th'tournament! Make haste and send Sirius word of't. 'Tis nobler to give him thy word than to let the newspapers write a deform'd, unfinish'd tale. I have ink and paper prepared. Yare to the Owlery; we'll give him up the truth."

With that, he pulled Harry out of his seat by the elbow and out of the office. When they went through the Great Hall, they saw Ron with Seamus and Dean. Baron pushed him on but couldn't stop Harry giving Ron the foulest look he could muster. At this moment, he really did hate Ron for his accusations and his jealousy. Ron didn't see him but it felt good all the same.

Just as he managed to get up to the top of the staircase, he ran promptly into Cedric, "Sorry." he mumbled and made to walk round him. But Cedric grabbed hold of his shoulder and pushed him back, nearly making Harry fall back down the stairs. Baron stopped suddenly too, frowning at Cedric in a curious and suspicious way.

One thing Harry noticed was that Cedric was surrounded by a gaggle of Hufflepuffs, some in Harry's year that he recognised and was on good terms with. Now, however, they did not look remotely friendly. In fact, some of them looked downright murderous. They reminded him rather forcibly of when he was cornered by Dudley's gang at school,

"Uh," Harry said, awkwardly, looking from face to face, trying to pick out a friendly one and to sound as polite as possible. He did not want to displease them, "hi. Sorry, I just need to send a letter. Can I get through please?"

"One minute, please, Harry." Ernie Macmillan glared down at him through his glasses, doing a good impression of Professor McGonagall, "Why did you enter the Tournament?"

_What?_ They all got together and cornered him just to ask him that. Harry sighed, "Look, I _didn't_ put my name in that Goblet. I don't know how it got there and I don't really want to be in the Tournament either." Harry had instructions from Baron to tell the truth. He'd done nothing wrong so there was no point hiding it, "So, can I go now?"

"You don't _want _to be in the Tournament?" Susan Bones gave him an inquisitorial glare, "How come didn't opt out then?"

"I wanted to." Harry explained, as calmly as he could with all their stares, "But Crouch wouldn't have it. Something about a 'binding magical contract'."

"Oho!" Ernie said, maliciously triumphant. The scene was now attracting an audience. People were coming out of the Great Hall to see what was going on. Ron, Seamus and Dean were lurking around the doors, watching Harry, "How convenient! So, you now have to compete against Ced whether you like it or not, right?"

"Right." Harry nodded, now getting rather tired of this, "Look, I really need to send this letter and I haven't got all day. So, could you please move?"

"Not yet." said a sixth year girl with her hair in a bun, "Ced's been telling us a few things. A few, very interesting things."

Harry frowned. He hadn't told Cedric anything about this whole thing, except that he'd didn't put his name in the Goblet,

"You told me last night, as I recall," Cedric now spoke up and his voice was most dangerous of all. Baron was frowning hard at him, his gaze never flinching, as though trying to see through him, "that you entered the Tournament so you can just get a bit more publicity."

"What?" Harry couldn't believe his ears. Had Cedric convinced them all that he'd said that? "I never said that!"

"A likely story." scowled Ernie, "You're just trying to steal Cedric's glory, aren't you? _You cheating, lying show-off_!"

"I - I -" Harry was lost for words. He became very aware that Ron was listening to every word. Baron too looked scandalised,

"_Thou slanderous, remorseless beasts..._"

"Look, " Harry tried, doing his best not to raise his voice. He'd been taught by Baron that raising his voice would not help plead his cause, "I didn't put my name in that Goblet and I'm _certainly_ not trying to steal anyone's glory."

"Oh, yeah?" Susan snarled, "Cedric told us everything last night. Are you calling him a liar now? Do you deny what you said?"

Harry stood there. What could he say? No answers came to him now, no ways out of this situation. All he wanted now was to be away from them and in the Owlery, writing that letter to Sirius and being away from those accusing glares. Harry took a deep breath and said, doggedly, in a voice of forced calm,

"_I didn't put my name in the Goblet, I am not a liar and I am not a show-off. Now, will you let me go?_" Without another word, Harry pushed forward past Cedric and away from the crowd, mind still reeling from what had just happened. Why did Cedric convince them that he was a lying prat? Was he angry about Harry entering the Tournament even when it was forbidden? But he'd met Cedric before and he didn't look like the jealous, bitter sort. On the contrary, he seemed quite pleasant and good-tempered. So, how could he change so suddenly? Or, was it…?

Harry's stomach plummeted at the very thought but that didn't stop him noticing people glare like Susan had done and whisper harsh-sounding words to each other. Had Cedric told the whole school about his supposed plot to seize fame? Wanting to avoid them more and more, he took a quick detour down a passage and came to a wonderfully deserted corridor that led straight to the Owlery,

"Baron," Harry looked up at the spirit, whose brow was furrowed as if in deep thought, "I don't think that Cedric normally like this."

"'Tis true." Baron nodded, grimly, "Something is rotten in this affair. It is strange. So sharp a transformation hath fallen upon him e'er our pulse beat twice. Mark't, 'tis not natural. Lest God hath made men as inconsistent in shape as high clouds."

They were very glad when they got up to the peace and quiet of the Owlery. There, they felt they could talk more freely and had half forgotten about the letter. Harry felt movement on his arm, making him jump. But, it was only Visahari, who'd been curled around his arm and now poking her head sleepily from his sleeve,

"_Harry,_" she gazed up at him with steady amber eyes, her pupils widening slightly as if wanting to take in as much as she could, "_your ssskin is ssshaking. What'sss the matter? Hasss sssomething happened?_"

"_Oh, yeah, you don't know, do you?_" Harry sat down against a wall as Baron stared pensively out of the window at the smooth lake. So, Harry explained all about how his name had come out of the Goblet, how Ron had turned against him, his jealousy and about Cedric's malicious slander. The small snake remained silent for a long moment, her tongue flicking out every few moments. Then,

"_Sssomething is not well, Baron isss correct. I am only young and don't know much about human waysss. But, I do know that I can ssserve asss ssspy for you._"

Unnoticed by Harry, Baron looked around at Visahari, suddenly listening to her hisses intently,

"_Let me be your eyesss where you cannot be. Let me watch Cedric for you._"

"_Yeah." _Harry nodded, "_That'sss a great idea, Visssahari._ Baron," He said, in English, looking up, "Visahari's volunteered to spy on Cedric for us."

"O, wonderful, wise creature." Baron smiled, kneeling down and stroking her head with his finger,

"_I can ssslide through the pipesss and lisssten through wallsss, Harry. All I need isss his ssscent and I ssshall keep a conssstant watch on him._"  
Harry relayed this to Baron and, after a moment's thought, he pointed at Harry's upper arm, "In thy impatience, you did clip him. Hath you his scent still?"  
"Oh, yeah. _Visssahari. I brussshed againssst him on my way here. Can you sssmell him on my robesss?_" He drew his hand up to where he'd pushed past Cedric and her forked tongue flicked out. Upon taking in the scent, she bristled, her pupils contracted and she hissed angry, making the owls around them start,

"Why, how now?" Baron asked, frowning,

"_What isss it, Visssahari?_" Harry asked the snake, who replied angrily,

"_I do not like thisss ssscent. It sssmellsss of thossse dreadful perfumesss that rich men ussse mixed with blood and death._"

"_What?_" Harry stared. Cedric smelled of blood? Now, Harry was definitely beginning to feel that something was horribly wrong with Cedric in a way he couldn't quite define. Just as Visahari was sliding from his sleeve, there was a rustle from outside and a folded note was pushed through the crack between door and floor. Cautious now, Harry pulled himself up, his hand unconsciously on his wand handle, "Who's there?"

"_It isss him, Harry!_" Visahari was erect and poised for attack, "_I sssmell Cedric outssside!_"

"Cedric?" Harry called, without thinking. There was a scuffle of feet and the sound of running. Baron strode over and picked up the note,

"'Twas Cedric, 'tis certain." Baron sat down where Harry had been, "Mine spirit hath ill feeling. It is not goodly tidings he doth bring." He opened the note and Visahari slid up Baron to settle on his shoulder. Baron read aloud,

"_The true Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory, son of Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures employee, Amos Diggory, to the usurper, Harry Potter, son of the deceased James Potter and known as the 'Boy-Who-Lived'._

_Greetings -_"

"That doesn't sound like Cedric's normal writing either." Harry interrupted, puzzled by this very formal way of starting a letter. Not even Dumbledore did that,

"Hast thou seen his letters afore?" Baron inquired, "'Tis very fine and custom to mine eye."

Harry shook his head, "No, but people don't start their letters like that anymore. It's normally just 'dear' or 'to'."

"Ist so?" Baron went back to reading,

"_ - my enemy. You must think yourself rather important to be able to enter the Tournament but beware. Justice will be served upon you. Your plot is transparent and I shall show it first to your fellows and friends. Pride and envy are deadly sins and you shall pay the price. I shall prove upon your broken body that I am the true and lawful champion of Hogwarts. You, guilty of conspiracy and greed, are provoked and heartily challenged by my person in these Tasks. We will compete and I will be victorious. As for your hated serpent, it will be plucked from your body and beheaded ere it shows its fangs._"

Harry gulped. Now, he was threatening him? Baron frowned, "Alack, this is most false and slanderous, so fast it comes."

There was a sudden clattering making all three of them look up. A red-robed figure took off his phoenix-feathered hat to get in through the window and grinned at them,

"Father!" Baron stood up, "Thou hast disembark'd at a dark time."

"What is it, Gabe?" Edward asked, the grin replaced by a look of concern, "Is it Incubus?"

"It may prove so. Look you upon this message. Ist not possible that the villain hath usurped Cedric more?"

Edward read the letter through very quickly and his face darkened. He looked more like Lucius Malfoy than ever as he frowned, "Yeah, you're right, Gabe. This does sound like Incubus' doing."

"_But,_" Visahari turned to Harry, looking a bit confused, "_I bit Incubusss. He isss grievousssly ill asss we ssspeak._"

"Didn't Visahari poison him?" Harry asked Edward,

"Yeah," Edward nodded, "I reckon it worked pretty well, too. But, Cedric could still be working under-cover for him and that's what I'm worried about. Y'see, reporters are coming in a few hours. They would have come a few days later but someone pulled the strings so they're coming today. Sounds a bit fishy, eh?"

"What would they want with reporters?" Harry asked,

"Harry, don't be thick!" Edward sighed, "It would be an opportunity to humiliate you even more! And a damn good one too 'cos one of them's Rita Skeeter and she's a right nasty little scandalmonger! Worse than old Waspetti; he was the one who was in charge of all those dreadful stories about us. But, her! She's got such a history for making up really awful stories, even if they're not true. Anything for a story, that's her motto! What's worse is her Quick Quotes Quill. It just writes what she wants written, never listens to the person she's interviewing. I'm telling you, Harry, she's gonna have a field day with you! Being entered into the tournament, the Boy-Who-Lived, she's gonna love a chance to make you look bad."

"My guard will be strong." Baron assured Harry, who was feeling worse and worse about the whole thing, "Ne'er will that harpy's screeches harm thee." Then, seeming to remember something, he turned to his father, "Didst her poisonèd ink form to envenom the dignity of Incubus not two days past?"

"Oh, yeah," Edward nodded, "Blimey, you're right. That's a thought. _And, _she put her name by the article too. Incubus might not be too pleased with her. Y'know what happened last time someone insulted him."

* * *

A/N: Ooh, something's rotten in the state of Hogwarts!

**Translations:**

_Pero...: _But...

_Waspetti: _Just 'wasp' with an Italian ending. I hate wasps, that's why I put it.


	30. The Wedding

A/N: Two exams down, four to go. Then, I'll have a long, two week break before school starts again! So, I managed to get this done last night and my computer was acting up so I couldn't post in earlier. Sorry.

_Baron: How canst thou importune thy patient readers with apologies when thou hast not permitt'd me into thy comments?_

Leonette: Yeah, yeah, whatever, Baron. Get back into the story. (once Baron is out of earshot) Drama queen...

_Baron: (appears again) If thou more murmur, I'll feed thee to Visahari!_

Leonette: Then, you wouldn't even exist, Baron!

_Baron: O! I crave thy pardon, my exquisite lady!_

Leonette: That's better. Apology accepted. Now, perhaps you'd like to tell the readers out there what there is in this chapter?

_Baron: A pleasure, madam. (Clears throat) Within these words lies treachery and bloody deeds abound._

Leonette: And, in English, he means that it's a darker chapter than the others. Incubus is on the move.

Right, on with the story!

* * *

Power of the Moon

Chapter 30: The Wedding

In the afternoon, just before the end of Harry's last lesson, Colin Creevey came to tell him that the _Daily Prophet _wanted all the champions together for what was apparently a photo shoot. Harry had come from Divination (which he was rather pleased to be out of) and, just when they'd reached the first floor…

A female scream and a male shout of horror issued from a few corridors away but they were strangely incomplete, as though stifled very suddenly. Baron stiffened like a rabbit to a gunshot and began to hurry down the stairs. Harry followed suit with Colin lagging behind with his short legs, "Wait for me, Harry!"

On the landing at the top of the marble staircase, a terrible surprise awaited them. Colin gasped and let out a high pitched scream. Baron stopped dead in his tracks and Harry felt faintly sick.

The dead body of a blonde witch hung from a classroom doorway, stuck there by a sword stolen from a suit of armour that was driven through her stomach and into the door. Harry couldn't tell what colour her robes were due to the amount of blood staining them. No hands protruded from the sleeves, only two, long-nailed ones lay on the floor in the ever increasing pool of blood. Beside them was a slimy red thing that Harry recognised as a severed tongue. The pieces of a snapped and smashed pair of jewelled spectacles were scattered around the hall, a couple of jewels floating in the pool of blood.

No sooner had Harry taken all this in, the group of people running towards the body spotted him, "Harry!" gasped Ludo Bagman, his cheerful face now white and scared-looking, "Harry, thank _god_ you're here!"

"Creevey, back to Gryffindor Tower with you!" Professor McGonagall's hands were shaking as she chivied Colin away. Harry was very glad she was accompanying him; he looked as though he might faint with horror any minute, "Potter, stay here. We're looking for Diggory, Krum and Miss Delacour."

"But, eet was Fleur 'oo screamed, I am sure of it!" declared Madame Maxime, who seemed a little smaller now she was so scared,

"And, Victor!" Karkaroff's goatee was shaking, as was his unctuous voice. Harry noticed that his face was angry as well as afraid, "If anything has happened to him, Dumbledore, I swear I will leave now! First, Hogwarts has two champions, now this! Ach! Had I known what danger and conspiracy I would encounter, I would have never agreed to bring my students here!"

"Never mind that, Igor!" Bagman was flapping his hands, panic-stricken, as he looked up and down the corridor for any signs of movement. Madame Maxime then swatted at a paunchy photographer, who was testing different angles of the corpse with his camera,

"Zis eez no time for zat!"

Baron then made himself visible and approached Dumbledore, whose eyes were staring intently at the body, "'Tis the vampire, Incubus, sure!" Dumbledore gave the tiniest of jumps at Baron's voice and looked round. The others, too, started and whirled round (the photographer slipped in the blood and landed flat on his back, smashing the camera on the stone). Harry, too, pretended to be surprised. Not to do so would be far too suspicious,

"Who are you?" Bagman asked, frowning,

"A man you need not regard with fear." Baron answered, calmly. He, alone, looked the most composed out of all of them, "I come with grievous and terrible tidings. About this place, I have seen that one that, within these pierc'd walls, ist traitorous."

"'Oo?" Madame Maxime asked, nervously, staring down at Baron, who addressed her directly,

"Lady, the air hath no tremble these months past for the villainous, blood-lusting, kindless creature that is Incubus was ailing and like to die by a serpent's sting. In these hours, he strengthens yet. From our sights, he withholds a lov'd boy, with whom he made all his joy. That wretched, fool'd boy didst importune him with love in response and called him father. I fear that, since his illness, he has performed an act of good and worthy man and played us the part of ignorance."

"But, who _is _this boy you speak of?" demanded Karkaroff, "And, why do you speak in such a secretive and strange tongue? You say nothing about yourself, so how can we know you are trustworthy?"

"Know, thou canst not." Baron replied, looking Karkaroff directly in the face, "Thou canst believe if you will but I say naught for 'tis too long and solemn a tale to tell in this dark hour. But, I will give up the name of the knave. 'Tis Cedric of Diggory's house."

"What?" Bagman staggered. Dumbledore's eyes flashed. Madame Maxime staggered slightly but Karkaroff was furious,

"_Dumbledore! If this riddle-speaking youth speaks true, then your own school are plotting against me! Your own students turning foul and distorting these claims you make of forgetting old differences! Madam Maxime and I have been lured here under false pretences, it would seem!_"

"Hold, for shame!" It was one of the first times Harry had heard Baron sound angry and now, he towered over Karkaroff, ceasing all talk at once, "'Tis the villain's intent! To sheer thy shame and become wrangling pirates would thricefold increase the fiend's indulgence! Ist not this lady's present death an outcry for calm?"

There was another silence. All were awed by Baron's outburst. Even Karkaroff was lost for words. Running a hand through his hair, Baron became calm again and said, "'Tis not thee he hounds."

"'Oo eez it 'e eez 'ounding, zen?" Madame Maxime ventured,

"'Tis I." Baron answered, "And my close companion, Harry. 'Twas the reason of Harry's entrance i'th'tournament, sure." He strode to Harry through the blood and laid a hand on his shoulder. Dumbledore's eyes lighted on Harry, as did everybody else's,

"Is this true, Harry?" He asked,

"Yeah." Harry nodded and, after a small nod from Baron, he went on, while employing the Occlumency he'd learned in the space of two months, "Cedric was with Incubus after the Quidditch World Cup. Incubus made the Death-Eaters attack our campsite and we ran into him while we were getting away."

"You were with…erm…?" Bagman gestured at Baron, helpfully,

"Men call me Baron." Baron said, simply,

"With Baron?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded, finding it strangely easy to lie, "We met each other in the forest before Incubus attacked us."

"My will urg'd me to stay at his side." Baron took over the fabricated story, "I knew of the fiend's presence and knew well of his bloody nature. But, come." His voice was now business-like and, clapping his hands, he strode over to the corpse, "We'll to the lady. Innocent eyes must not be so tainted by most piteous a spectacle."

Without so much as a flinch, Baron collected up her hands and tongue, wrapped them in white cloth appearing from his hands and pulled the sword from the woman's body. He caught her before she hit the floor and laid her flat on the floor. Very gently, Baron closed her eyes, "Forgive me, lady, of this cureless wound. My heart weeps at thee." In an instant, she was wrapped in a white shroud, covering her whole body. He laid the package on her breast. Neither of these were stained with blood. Nor was the floor, though no incantation had been uttered, "Tell me, what did goodfolk call her?"

"You're a bit behind the times." The paunchy photographer commented, "She was Rita Skeeter, _Daily Prophet_ reporter. She came here to do a piece on the Triwizard Tournament."

"Alack, my fears proved true." Baron sighed, "'Twas not her that inflam'd Incubus. Thou rash, wretched fool, farewell." He turned from her, suddenly looking old and sad. Harry didn't know why. Only a few hours ago, he'd called her a harpy, after all.

Professor McGonagall's magically magnified voice rang through the corridors, "_All Hogwarts students will return to their Common Rooms at once. All Heads of Houses will accompany their students to register them and report anyone missing to the Headmaster immediately. All other teachers will proceed to the staff room, immediately._"

Madame Maxime and Karkaroff drew their wands and added their announcements of their students to return to the carriage or ship. A rumble of students overhead were heard. Baron took Harry's shoulder and led him away from the corridor, "I'll to thee later." He called over his shoulder and became spirit no sooner were they alone, _D__'__you think Incubus captured Fleur and Krum?_ Harry asked, nervously, as he joined the crowd of students heading for their Common Rooms,

"Aye, 'tis certain." Baron nodded, observing the Hufflepuffs descending the stairs. Harry glanced at them too. How would they feel when they found out that their champion, the pride of their house, had betrayed them and turned to Incubus?

The two of them kept an uneasy silence as they came to the Fat Lady, who was having to keep herself open to admit the flow of students, "What is the point of having a password if you're just going to come here all at once?" She was saying, rather snappishly. Harry wondered whether she'd been rudely woken when the first of them gave the password.

It was very uncomfortable so say the least, with all the Gryffindors packed into the one room, all talking about what might have happened, "It's like when the Chamber of Secrets opened!" declared Lavender Brown,

"Can't be." Fred shook his head, "Harry killed the Basilisk, remember?"

"You don't think it's…Incubus, do you?" Lee Jordan wondered, fearfully,

"Oh, yeah. There's a thought." George sounded a bit sick and he massaged his ribs unconsciously.

Harry sat with Ron and Hermione, silently wondering where Cedric was now and what Incubus was doing to his captives. Colin, too, was completely silent and very pale. After a moment, he thought he could dare a conversation with Visahari, since everyone was so tense and worried. After retreated to the far wall and concealing himself behind the backs of some tall seventh years, he brought his wrist up to his mouth and whispered, "_Visssahari!_"

"_Harry!_" She poked her strangely alert head out of his sleeve from the side of his arm. Harry was very grateful for this, since his arm concealed her from anyone looking over their shoulder at him, "_Hasss sssomething happened? I sssmell blood earlier but I dared not tell you in cassse that little boy sssaw me._"

"_It__'__sss a real emergency, here. Rita Ssskeeter__'__s been murdered, that__'__sss where the blood came from._" The snake's pupils contracted, "_What__'__sss worssse isss that Incubusss hasss captured the other championsss._"

"_Perhapsss it wasss lucky that I did not venture into the cassstle today._"  
They had to stop talking at this point since Professor McGonagall was pushing her way around the Common Room, ticking off names. Visahari retreated into Harry's sleeve when she came closer and Baron peered over her shoulder at the ticked-off names. When his eyes had traveled down the parchment, he frowned.

When McGonagall had finished, she was very white. They didn't have long to wait to find out what was wrong, "I have a very distressing announcement to give all of you. Incubus struck again half an hour ago. He killed Rita Skeeter and captured students."

Fred, George, Lee and Ron looked thunderstruck. The Weasley boys went white, their freckles showing clearly, "I must advise you not to panic. You will all stay in the Common Room until I come with further developments." With that, she swept from the Common Room and, no sooner had the portrait of the Fat Lady closed behind her, a burst of talk echoed around the place,

"Incubus!"

"Not again!"

"Who's he captured? Did she say?"

"What if they close down Hogwarts?" squeaked Dennis Creevey, who'd been trying to get his brother to talk beforehand,

"Yes!" cried a frantic second year girl, "I want to go home!"

In all the confusion, Harry checked where Ron and Hermione were and found them in close discussion with Fred, George and Lee. A sharp poke on his shoulder later and Ginny appeared at his elbow, with a rather harassed-looking Zirconia,

"We need to get somewhere quiet. Your dormitory?"

Eager for excuse to discuss plans undisturbed, Harry and Baron led the way up the stone steps and into Harry's dormitory. The place was quiet and settled compared to the noise downstairs. Though it still drifted up through the closed door but spell from Baron later silenced all sound. Ginny immediately sank onto Ron's bed, Zirconia on the windowsill and only Baron remained standing,

"O, Heavens." Baron sighed, "What a fair and foul day, 'tis."

Indeed, the sun was shining outside in the cold day. One would never suspect that such evil deeds were going on inside the castle. Just then, the window's light was blocked by something red. Edward scrambled over the windowledge, making Zirconia scream and crash to the floor, "_Ay caramba!_" and stood panting. His double-stringed bow was drawn and his golden quiver was on his back. His face was almost as red as his robes and it took him about a minute to make any coherent words without panting,

"Incubus…he's…he's got Fleur and Krum…"

"Yeah, we know." Ginny nodded, "Have you seen him?"

"…Got others, too…three of 'em…only little ones…"

Baron's eyebrows furrowed,

"Hast the fiend snatched others?"

"Yeah." Edward was regaining some of his breath now and his panting was less frequent, "…About thirteen, by the looks of them. I saw Incubus dragging them away out of the castle."

"It must have been the ones who went to get Cedric, Fleur and Krum!" Ginny gasped in horror, "They're in my year! Edward, did one of them have brown pigtails and a load of make-up on her face?"

"Well, I saw one with pigtails," Edward said, thoughtfully, "but I'd didn't see her face. Why?"

"Because I know her." Ginny answered, looking more and more worried, "She's Ethel Cygnus. She's in my year but in Slytherin. She's always getting told off because she always has a ton of make-up on. What about the others? Did you get a good look at them?"

"Not a really good look." Edward shook his head but I did see the backs of their heads and got a glimpse of one of their faces. Erm, he was sort of dark-haired and a big mole on his chin."

"Oh, no!" Ginny gasped again, "That sounds like James Pope. He's in Ravenclaw and he…helped me with an essay once." She finished, rather lamely,

"And, the other one?" Harry pressed Edward,

"Erm, another girl. Her hair was all short and she dropped this. Sounded a bit Welsh." He opened his clenched fist and showed them a snapped bangle with the moving face of a kitten that mewed silently,

"Yep." Ginny nodded, "Claire Ockley. She's in Gryffindor. She was showing that off a week ago in Herbology. She got it as a birthday present."

"So, that's a Slytherin, a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor gone, not counting the champions." Harry said, heavily. Edward then realised something,

"Oh, yeah! Cedric was dragging off someone else too."

"Another hostage?" cried Zirconia, who'd been glaring at him ever since she'd been forced off the windowsill, "Who is it?"

"I dunno her name." Edward shrugged, "Not as young as the others. Fifth or sixth year, I'd say. Had this long black hair. I've seen her on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."  
Harry's stomach plummeted, "I think I know." He said, slowly, "Cho Chang."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, "You mean the one who's going out with Cedric?"

"Yeah."

Baron, who'd been silent up until then, drinking in every word Edward said, stood and spoke, "Hear me. A contract of vows may be made betwixt the deceiv'd and the captur'd. Rememberest thou, Father, the mockery of holy vows made by Incubus betwixt Varrius and the poor servant girl?"

"Yeah." Edward nodded and turned to Harry and Ginny, "Sometimes, if Incubus' latest 'son' has his eye on someone, he tells Incubus and he marries them himself!"

Ginny gasped, "Poor Cho."

"Yeah." Edward sat down on the place where Zirconia had perched, "Incubus married off Varrius to a Muggle servant girl that he was in love with. 'Course, he couldn't turn her into a vampire. She didn't have any magic in her, it's really risky to that. There's about a one in ten chance of the Muggle becoming vampire. The other times, they just die of blood loss. And Incubus was keen to keep Varrius happy, so he let the girl live."

"What was her name?" Ginny asked,

"We don't know." Edward shrugged, "She never came out onto battles, just told to stay at the hiding place when they went out. For what I've heard, it was her that told the Ministry where Incubus and Varrius lived. They stormed the place, captured Varrius and…well, y'know what happened."

"Where did she go, then?" Harry asked, but had a funny feeling that he knew the answer. Edward's sigh told him that he was right,

"She tried to do a runner but Incubus caught up with her and killed her as retribution. Never did get a look at her. He just threw her body in a lake, from what I heard. No idea which one. Didn't really want to look, either. Can't imagine it to be pretty." He added, with a disgusted look on his face.

* * *

As a contrast to the grim air in the castle, a celebration took place in the dwelling. The four guests lounged like Roman banqueters on sofas and cushions and helped themselves to food. Each dressed in rich, beautiful clothes and shimmering riches. Three servants in plain silk clothes milled around, carrying plates of grapes, vessels of wine and pitchers of blood. The place was ablaze with colour and shining silver, gold and jewels. Light reflected off the precious stones and metals and illuminated the place magnificently.

For once in her life, Ethel Cygnus' face was free of make-up. It was still pink from a forceful scrubbing from Onyx and she always hastened to answer the wine call whenever closest. Every now and again, she'd touch her face and wish she had something to cover it.

James Pope's hands were shaking so his grapes quivered ominously. He did not like the tunic he wore. It was far too short and showed the skinny legs he'd been so self-conscious about nearly all his life.

Claire Ockley bore signs of having cried before and she kept fingering her wrist, wishing she still had her bangle. She felt that, if she still had it, it could comfort her.

As for Cho, who sat beside Cedric, she never remembered feeling so miserable. Her bridal gown clung to her, as though fixing her to that spot. Chains of gold and silver hung about her waist and her arms. They felt very much like restraints than ornaments. She forced herself to eat so as not to attract attention to herself but she never felt less hungry. All the time, she had to endure the stinging pain of her wrist when she'd been bitten at the alter.

She'd been forced to stride up the aisle of the deserted church with Claire and Ethel as bridesmaids, Krum as the best man, Onyx and James playing the organ and stand with Cedric (_But he__'__s not Cedric anymore_.) as Incubus played the horribly unbefitting part of the vicar. Her face had been shining with tears behind the veil as she'd reluctantly said 'I do'. She'd always imagined marrying Cedric in daydreams but it was never like this. For one, Cedric did not have small fangs.

Cedric talked merrily with Incubus, actually calling him 'father'. Fleur was forced to dance around them in the Veela fashion and Krum stood outside as a guard. Incubus and Cedric were the only ones who looked happy. Onyx, she noticed, did not eat much or join in the conversation. What she did eat was slipped in behind her mask and vanished. Her silence was rather dour.

Incubus was acting like Cho had never imagined him acting. He was a jovial host and spoke mostly to Cedric while sipping blood. Every now and again, when Cedric said something he liked, he would be overcome by a bout of affection and hug Cedric, while praising him extravagantly.

Cedric was enjoying this immensely. He sat on Incubus' left hand, wearing the expensive dress-robes he'd worn for the wedding and take, ate and drank blood. For he had been recently turned into a vampire and his fangs were small compared to Incubus'. Like Incubus, he was acting as though it was a joyous occasion, not a gathering of evil and spoke in a way Cho had never heard him speak.

He spoke of torturing and killing various people lightly and jestingly, which Incubus loved. The awful things he said in a bright and cheerful tone made Cho feel faintly sick. Still, she endured it and answered Incubus' questions with the wanted answers. She had to tell him what he wanted to hear if she wanted to stay alive.

* * *

Outside, Krum stood in the chilly night air, in his tight furs and long spear. It was unwieldy but sharp. He longed for nothing more than to pelt into the place and skewer Incubus on the end of it. But there was Diggory and Onyx and he could not hope to be able to defeat them. He did not have his wand. He had nothing of his on him anymore. All of his clothes and things he was carrying had been taken by Incubus before the wedding. He was pacing now just for something to do but it didn't stop him loathing Incubus.

How he longed to be back in Bulgaria and back on his broom during a training session. If he'd known how dangerous coming to England would be, he would have refused Karkaroff's invitation to come at once. _Reforming old ties, indeed!_ He scowled, bitterly, _I have been led right into the slaughterhouse! Right into the trap of a mad, murderous vampire!_

Absently, he wondered what Karkaroff was doing. He amused himself by imagining him flying into a rage at Dumbledore for letting this happen and with his fans outraged at such a thing happening to their idol. _To think that I, an internationally famous Quidditch player, am reduced to a watch duty every night._

Then, something happened to make him look up from his bitter thoughts. Silhouetted against the moon was a small fluttering shape. A butterfly, not a moth, a butterfly, was flying seemingly with a purpose straight for him. Then, a voice could be heard through the night air. It was not a voice he recognised and didn't seem to be coming from within the place behind him. It was male and mournful, singing a slow hymn,

"_Abide with me…Fast falls the eventide…The darkness deepens…_"

Looking around for a culprit, it stopped after the butterfly fluttered a few feet from his face. Not quite knowing why, he reached out a hand and caught it, bending his fingers in a sort of cage. It did not try to flee but stopped its wings to let Krum draw it in for a closer look. For the light of a torch placed near the door, he could see that it was almost completely white but for some dark patterns around the bottom wings,

"_Vat are you doing out so late?_" He whispered to it, "_You should not fly so close to zis place._"

Nevertheless, it stayed in his palm, flexing its wings. It did not speak, just stayed sedately on his skin. Then, it fluttered from his hand and flew for a moment around him. _This cannot be normal behaviour, surely. _It lighted first upon the lid post of the door, then dangerously close to the flame and then, flew away into the night. Krum was left, once again, alone in the dark.

* * *

A/N: Any idea what that butterfly may be?


	31. Baron Takes Charge

A/N: Right! That wraps it up for this story! I'm splitting this Power of the Moon saga into parts and this is the end of part 1. Next'll be 'Power of the Moon: Incubus'.

I might have a bit of a break from POTM and start another story. Maybe start a slash fic. Slash fanfics aren't really my cup of tea but, hey! I like a challenge! And, as a writer, you need to broaden your spectrum!

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Power of the Moon

Chapter 31: Baron Takes Charge

It was a terrible time inside the castle. Friction broke out between the three schools and blame was pushed here and there on who was responsible for the murder of Rita Skeeter and the kidnapping. Hardly any details had been given out by the teachers or by the _Daily Prophet_. Only the names of the three champions had been given out in a two-inch long article and Harry hadn't been mentioned at all.

No connection had been made to the champions' kidnap and Rita Skeeter's murder (which, of course, was headline news, as was all of Incubus' attacks). It was simply said that she'd been murdered somewhere around Hogwarts (with no specific location) and that other students (though, no names were given) had been captured.

Harry had a strange feeling that Baron had something to do with the strange lack of details from the news (he'd managed to corner the photographer before he left). Harry had not told Ron or Hermione anything about seeing Rita Skeeter dead. He'd only told Snape, Ginny, Luna, Draco and the spirits during a tense meeting in Snape's office.

Edward had scouted the area feverishly for Incubus' hiding place for a whole day but to no avail. He came back hot and breathless that night. All he did after that was collapse on a squashy sofa in the Gryffindor Common Room and go to sleep at once.

In the three days after the kidnap, Dumbledore had found himself having to fight off a hailstorm of owls every morning. Mostly from distraught parents saying that they wanted their children to come home away from such a dangerous place. He'd even received a few Howlers who screamed insults at him for letting this happen,

"Dumbledore couldn't have done anything." Harry commented to no one in particular, "What're they doing blaming him?"

"'Tis custom." Baron said, heavily, over Hermione's comment so Harry didn't hear it but he didn't ask for her to say it again, "What canst they do but point their sword to the supremacy?"

* * *

Harry, however, had other things to think about. The Hufflepuffs were furious with him. Not only did they still believe what Cedric told them about him entering out of gaining fame but he was the sole champion not to be captured which put him in the frame more than anything else. Inevitably, Cedric's lies about Harry spread all around the school and to the foreign students. The worst rumour was a theory of Harry being the kidnapper and only kidnapped the students because they were in the way. Ron was growing colder and colder towards him, as were the other Gryffindors.

As for the Slytherins, they were having a field day. Catcalls and jeers followed him up and down the corridor, along with enchanted bottles of ink or quills that soaked or jabbed him until he was out of sight of him. This happened even without the presence of Slytherins. Harry thought that he must be the most hated person in the school. He felt that the only people who thought him innocent were Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Draco, Snape, Sirius and the spirits.

Visahari came out of his sleeve to speak to him more often since he sought privacy more often. She was a wise and patient companion whom Harry felt confident talking to without risk of being overheard. On the third day, Harry snarled to her, "_Everyone mussst think that I kidnapped thossse people. Jussst becaussse I__'__m the only champion not to be captured. How isss that fair?_"

She gazed up at him for a moment with her amber eyes and then, her body squeezed his wrist in an affectionate sort of way, "_I know you are innocent and ssso doesss Baron and Dumbledore. Thossse foolsss only blame you becaussse there isss no one elssse for them to blame._"

"_And, there__'__sss another thing._" Harry added, with vehemence, "_Why hasssn__'__t anyone been told about Cedric turning to Incubusss?_"

"_I know._" The snake nodded, sagely, "_But, I sssuppossse they do not want them to know. There isss enough bad feeling in the air already. I can almossst sssmell it._" Her tongue flicked out to demonstrate, "_But, ssstill,_" She squirmed a little, "_thisss mussst be exactly what Incubusss wants. To make them feel that you are at fault and then, give out the truth himself to make them all feel assshamed._"

Just then, a burst of noise came from below. Harry, who'd been hiding in the upper landing, dodged out from behind a row of books and peered over the railings. Groups of black, powder blue and blood red jostled around below. It looked like a fight. Books, ink bottles and even chairs were flying everywhere and screams of insults and pain echoed around the place,

"_Never trust a foreigner!_"

"_Go home!_"

"_You beasts!_"

The majority of the shouting Harry could understand was coming from the Hogwarts students and it sounded much ruder. Madam Pince tried valiantly to stop the commotion but was Stunned by a Durmstrang student. Harry sighed, "Oh, no."

"_How long can thisss go on?_" Visahari sighed, too. Baron, however, (who'd been hovering behind Harry until that moment) marched across the landing, made himself solid and began to march down the steps. Harry watched as, once halfway down, Baron raised his voice to a much louder shout that he thought possible from Baron and called,

"HEAR ME, BICKERING FOOLS!"

All noise ceased. Baron glared around at them all for a moment, holding them with his stare. One by one, everyone lowered their wands, chairs or books. Harry noticed that a small brown package was at his feet. Visahari hissed happily, "_Baron will sssurely put all to right._"

"Friends, fellows, guests, lend me your ears." Some of the foreign students looked a little bemused by Baron's strange way of speaking. Harry wondered if they could understand him or not, "For thy rebellious nature satisfies not thee but an enemy."

Everyone started to look around nervously, as though afraid this enemy would pop out of a wall, "Now, I will tell thee what thy masters are half afeared to." Harry realised what he was about to do, "A blood-lusting villain grows strong from thy hate, as thou ever-weakens."

"'Oo is this villain?" asked a Beauxbatons girl, who looked pale and scared,

"The murderous soul that did stab Rita Skeeter's life from her body."

"Incubus!" gasped a Hogwarts fifth year,

"Yea." Baron nodded, "'Tis the fiend's desire to cram the air of this bless'd castle with thy reckless abhorrence. Know now that some are wrong and some wronged. The wronged champion is blameless but 'tis his desire to slander him. Within his wicked mind, 'tis better to leave him to the maws and wolves of slander and rumour than to confine him as prisoner."

A silence followed, in which Baron glared around at them all. Then, a particularly hard-faced Slytherin student pushed his way forward and glared back at him, "And, just who are you to start telling us what to believe? I mean, Potter's record isn't exactly clean, is it?"

"Men call me Baron." Baron answered, looking the student right in the face. Harry thought this a little daring, since he was heavily built and looked as though he could easily break every bone in Baron's frail body. Still, he turned away from him and addressed the room at large, "Call to remembrance, thou who can, the affair of Slytherin's chamber and the monster within. Was he not wrongly accus'd and rightly innocent? When black danger threatens, Harry hath defend'd. Is this wickedness?"

Then, he lowered himself, ignoring the uncomfortable squirms from some of the students. From the brown package, he drew a roll of parchment, "Who within thee knoweth Diggory as a friend or better enough to see his hand in script?" There was a small sound, somewhere between a squeak and a gasp, "Yea, noise?" A black, shiny head moved through the sea of students. Only when she pushed through the last two people did Harry see that it was one of Cho Chang's giggling girlfriends, no longer giggling. Trembling from reddish-blonde, curly head to shiny black toe, she said,

"I-I do, Baron. I we-went out with him for a bit b-before Cho. He wrote a lot of…letters to me…I'm Marietta Edgecombe…"

She quailed under Baron's hard gaze. After a moment, he sighed, "So fair a maiden that should hear so terrible a summary. I'll have thee not read it but look upon this paper." He stepped down the stairs, his white cloak trailing behind him. Marietta looked like she wished she'd stayed at the back of the room. When he was level with her, he held out the scroll, "Look 'pon it but read not. Terrible things hath ne'er been on a page scratched that mortal man hath seen."

Marietta took it as fearfully as though it were a poisonous spider and unrolled it a little, "Ist not the boy's hand?" Baron inquired. Marietta nodded immediately,

"Yes, it is. Definitely" At this, Baron took it back from her and swept back up the stairs to his previous stand,

"I will proclaim this writing unto you with my reluctant tongue. Would I have but chosen, I would not be the one to read't. To so taint thine ears with so piteous a declaration. Yet, still, thy masters refuse't. Therefore, I must do't." As Baron unrolled it, a small ripple passed through the crowd as everyone leaned in. Even the Slytherin who'd interrupted him was looking on with interest. Visahari whispered,

"_What__'__sss that?_"

"_No idea._"

After unrolling it all, Baron closed his eyes for a moment and added, "'Tis his hand, yet not his mind that writes. Mark that." Then, he turned once more to the page,

'_The true champion of Hogwarts, once Cedric Diggory, son and heir of the vampire Lord Incubus-_'

There was an intake of breath at these words and Harry stared,

'_-that shall be renamed anew when enemies are vanquished, to the unknown boy, son of the archer ranger that hunts us, and known commonly as Baron._

_'__You know now that I have been serving my father for two months under pretence. Yet, you are too late. You could not stop this death and now, we have captives and I, the prize of the Eastern beauty, Cho. She is my bride and will be alongside me always. You cannot reach her._

_'__Yet, when we are ready, we will return the others and fall upon this castle. We target you and your people within the walls. My father and I shall sup your blood from you and your champion friend._'

Harry noticed Hermione and Ron within the crowd and their eyes met his. They were frightened,

'_As my father requested, I__'__ve also sent you a gift. It is the cloak of the evil reporter that Onyx, my father and I murdered. You will see three holes, one each for us. Onyx stabbed her around the neck and my father in the chest. The one furthest from the fastening is mine._'

With that, Baron rolled up the scroll again and closed it. Everyone was white with shock and horror. Some of the girls were actually sobbing into their hands. Most of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students, however, looked triumphant,

"So!" An audacious Beauxbatons boy spoke, "It eez 'Ogwarts 'oo eez to blame!"

"Have a care!" Baron replied, "Hast thou no ears? Didst I not say that he wrote not with his mind? Turn thy soul to grief, not hatred. There is a soul deceiv'd and tainted. Hate Incubus, if thou will." Then, he lowered himself for a third time, reaching a hand into the brown parcel, "If thou hast tears, be sure to o'erflow them now."

With that, his arm flew up and, with it, came a cloak so covering blood that its colour was indistinguishable. There were three rips in the fabric. A united horrified gasp came from the onlookers. The girls who were sobbing wailed in terror. Marietta looked about ready to faint,

"Look!" Baron gave the thing a little shake and held it so that a hole near where the chest would be when worn was visible. His voice became forceful, almost a shout, "Look where the brutal Cassius Incubus stabbed!" Then, he grabbed the neck and showed them a particularly large, rounded hole, "Look at what a rent the envious Onyx hath made!"

"Oh, put it away!" wailed Marietta, crying with fright while pressing a handkerchief to her. Indeed, Baron seemed taller than ever, towering above them, brandishing the bloodstained cloak before them. People were crying, girls and boys, but they seemed unable to look away. Visahari was most impressed,

"_He doesss know how to hold a crowd!_"

Ron and Hermione were struck dumb, white and their mouths hanging open. After a long pause, in which Baron glared intently around at them all, superbly ignoring all protests. Then, he held up a hand, which silenced everyone, "And, this." He showed them the last rip, "This is the most unkindliest cut of all. Made by the usurpéd and stainéd boy thou didst once love."

Marietta collapsed on the floor in a swoon, "Look to the lady." Baron said, at once. A group of ashen-faced Hufflepuffs pulled her away, "Thou knowest now. Go forth and speak more of these ill things. 'Twas the intention of Incubus to put it abroad when thou hast whil'd away seven days from the capture. By then, the hatreds would have root'd so deep within thy soles that to rip them up would cause such pain and grief unknown to thee. This satisfaction, I will not allow him to possess. Now, go from this place and spread word of these dread occurrences."

Meekly, they filed through the doors of the library one by one, no one daring to disobey Baron. Ron and Hermione, however, hurried up a far staircase that led up the landing where Harry still stood. Baron reached his first and put a hand on his shoulder,

"Baron, have I ever told you that you are absolutely _amazing_?"

"Were it my will," Baron sighed, "I would not have spoken. I had receivance of the gift this morrow."

Ron and Hermione reached them. Hermione had tear tracks on her face and Ron's freckles stood out against his pale skin, "Harry…" Hermione found her tongue first, "Harry…this is so awful…I never thought Cedric would…"

"I knew." Harry said, a little apologetic, feeling he ought to come clean, "Sorry. I just…didn't want you to worry."

"Oh, that doesn't matter!" Hermione said, impatiently. Then, Ron found his voice at last,

"Harry…I'm really, _really _sorry. Thought someone might be using this to do you in. I just…didn't really want to believe it." After a while of shuffling his large feet, he groaned, "I should've known he'd do something like this! Just the sort of thing he'd do!"

"Mayst thou be wiser," Baron spoke without prompt, "when next thy friendship wavers."

"Er…yeah…" Ron's ears turned red.

* * *

The four of them went down sedately to the Great Hall together. The news was spreading fast. People were pointing at Baron and whispering frantically. Giving them nothing but princely disregard, Baron marched on in front. Hermione dropped her voice to whispered to Harry,

"Who is he, Harry? D'you know him?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded, truthfully, "He fights the Dark Side. Don't worry, we can trust him." He added, seeing the look on Ron's face, "He's had a lot of experience."

Down in the Great Hall, there was a good deal of noise. The story of Cedric's betrayal was being shouted by various voices. The Hufflepuffs had never looked more forlorn as they entered. As Baron swept into the room, all fell silent. They were clearly expecting another speech from him. McGonagall swept from the staff table. Madame Maxime spotted him from the staff table,

"Bah!" She gasped, "I might 'ave known! It's zat boy, again!"

McGonagall swept towards Baron. They were both of equal height and she glared at him reproachfully, her mouth thin, "Baron! Explain this behaviour! Why have you told the students about Diggory?"

"Your pardon, madam." Baron said, more politely, "Yet, my soul was moved toward the truth than the poisonous lies that spread this place."

"What 'poisonous lies' are these?" Dumbledore asked, calmly. He too faced Baron beside McGonagall,

"Foul pestilence that didst threaten the name of my much wrong'd friend." He clasped Harry's shoulder, "Slander most foul ran abound. Truth art more favourable to't, yea?"

"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded, "However, you should not have gone so far as to show them Miss Skeeter's cloak."

"Should not, yea." Baron nodded, "Yet, I was moved to't. They, so firm and unmoving in their thoughts as stone, had to be made known of it."

There was a silence. Then. Madame Maxime stood, "Dumbly-dore," She said, imperiously, "I wish zat zis boy should 'ave lodgings 'ere. 'E knows much of zis Incubus. I wish 'im to stay until we are sure of no more attacks!"

Karkaroff didn't look like he liked this idea at all but he said nothing. Baron bowed his head respectfully to Madame Maxime, "I thank thee for thy request, lady, but I will have no lodgings within these walls. The forest yonder shall suffice me better."

"The _Forest_!" gasped McGonagall, "But, that's _forbidden, _Baron! It's dangerous!"

"Many a time that _dangerous _forest hath defended me." Harry had to admire Baron's nerve. Not many people had the courage to answer back to Professor McGonagall, "I will set up a tent within't, of a place known only to I. I will spend my days within these walls, as thou wishest. I will choose the place anon. I take my leave of thee."

With that, he inclined his head again and left the castle for the grounds.

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A/N: So, at this, we say goodbye to Baron for the present.

_Baron: Nay, only but for the present!_

Okay, okay. Right, sayonara!


End file.
